


The American President

by silveritas



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Action, American Politics, Bottom Jensen, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Top Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveritas/pseuds/silveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Jensen took office as the youngest president in history, his life has gone completely to hell.  He's lost his wife, had to send his daughter away, and there's an underground group of would-be revolutionaries at large that wants him dead.  Between sneering congressmen, death threats, and trying to run a country, he's almost at the end of his rope and then ex-SEAL and Secret Service Agent Jared Padalecki joins his detail.  Jensen doesn't know for sure, but Jared just might be what ends him... or saves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The American President

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I'm new to AO3, so the formatting sucks. It's all nice and neat and chaptered on my LJ, but this one is just the whole thing tossed out there with little stars for breaking up parts, so it'll be a little jumpier than I would have liked. I suppose with time I'll get better at it. Goodness knows I couldn't format an LJ post to save my life for the longest time.
> 
> Anywho, here's a little background because this story throws you pretty much right into the thick of things.
> 
> We all know that Jensen is President. Another fun fact is that he did some time in the Air Force as a commissioned officer before or after law school. I haven't made up my mind on that yet and it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things.
> 
> The rest of the cast is as follows:
> 
> Danneel Ackles- deceased wife of Jensen, former First Lady.  
> Evelyn Ackles- daughter of Danneel and Jensen, about 8 years old. Lives in Dallas with Jensen's parents.  
> Jeffrey Dean Morgan- Head of Jensen's personal protection detail(PPD).  
> Chris Kane, Steve Carlson, Jake Abel, Justin Hartley, Matt Cohen and so on- Service agents in Jensen's PPD.  
> Misha Collins- Vice President.  
> Genevieve Cortese- Chief of Staff.  
> Richard Speight Jr and Rob Benedict- Press correspondents.
> 
> I think that covers the important parts. Happy reading!
> 
> Also, to anyone who had to suffer through this weird "I" business, I apologize and it should be fixed now. For some reason some names were changed to "I" when I copy/pasted from my word document on my computer. If there are any I didn't get let me know!

 

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

Jensen hears the crack of the bullet a nanosecond before there’s a spray of warm liquid across his front and the agent standing closest to him, the man whose _only_ mission in the Service is to be his human shield, goes down.  And Jensen only gets a tiny sliver of time to stare in shock at Michael lying at his feet on the pavement before Chris starts shouting. 

 

“Three o’clock!” is Chris’s order as he covers the back of Jensen’s head with his hand and pulls him down, forcing him toward the Beast with a tight fist on his belt as he, Steve, and Justin form a protective human casing around him.

 

Every agent in the vicinity has their eyes trained on the shooters, each firing in rapid succession, but the bullet fire is barely registering as Jensen’s still too stunned from watching Michael die.  And he knows he’s gone, has given his life for Jensen’s.  Just as he knows Michael’s body has its own little army of agents protecting it until the ambulance arrives.  Until they pronounce him dead. 

 

Steve crowds into the back seat of the Beast first and then Chris shoves Jensen in, blocking the entire doorway with his body as he falls into the seat.  Justin shuts the door behind Chris and begins firing his P90 along with the rest of the agents, but Jensen can’t hear it.  He can’t hear anything in the sealed environment of the car as Matt guns it. 

 

There is a sprinkling of metallic pings as bullets bounce off of the heavily armored car, and then Chris jolts next to Jensen at the hard splat of a high caliber bullet as it’s stopped by the window, heralding a tense silence inside the vehicle. 

 

Jensen is frozen to the spot, staring down the kill shot, the bullet with his name on it, big and dark and embedded in the thick bulletproof glass as Chris cusses about snipers.  Inside the car is silent as the grave, but outside it’s utter and complete madness.

 

 

 

STORY

 

“Jeff found our guy,” Chris says, tossing a folder down on Jensen’s desk.  “We vetted him.  He’s good for the job.”

 

Jensen flips the folder open halfheartedly.  It’s not that he’s not interested in his new personal protector, it’s just that nothing has stopped, nothing has slowed down enough for him to take a breath, for him to recover.  He’s still reeling from the murder of Special Agent Michael Weatherly, but the country stops for no man, and he gives the file a once over. 

 

The picture staring back at him is fairly attractive, to say the least.  Fuck it, he’s lying.  They guy Jeff’s picked is gorgeous.  And his resume is impressive.  Ex-SEAL, SpecOps trained, and he’s been working from a Service field office for the last three years, probably bored out of his mind.  He’ll do a damn fine job, so he signs off on it, handing the folder back to Chris and dismissing him to be alone for a brief moment in his busy life.

 

When he decided to run for office, he never thought he’d be where he is today—a widowed single father and President of the United States.  It seems like only yesterday that he and Danneel decided to give it a go, see if he could be the youngest president in history, and they made it.  They made it for just a little over a year, and then she left him alone with a daughter to raise and a country to run, spreading himself so thin some days that he thought he’d lose his mind.  That’s if the consuming grief of losing his wife didn’t get to him first. 

 

She’d only been gone six months when the threats started really rolling in.  First it was letters, and then came the packages that were immediately confiscated and tested for any clues that would lead to the sender.  So far everything came up empty.  And then a sniper blew his personal guard away and took a chunk out of the car before he and the Service made their getaway. 

 

And now he’s better.  But only just.  He still spends most of his nights lying awake and missing Danneel.  Sometimes he wonders what she’d think about the mess he’s in right now.  If she’d understand how hard it is for him to figure out how to live without her, how everyday is an uphill battle that he just _barely_ wins.  He thinks she’d get it, that she’d smile and kiss him and then they’d figure it out together.  But they can’t and they won’t, because a clot in her brain took her away from him in her sleep, and now he’s got to figure it out on his own, and he’s tired.  He’s tired and he just wants to lay down and sleep for weeks, but for now he’ll do the only thing he can—carry on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jared Padalecki is not what he was expecting.  For an ex-SEAL, he’s got an exceptionally vibrant personality.  His smile is completely disarming and he’s done a damn good job at charming the pants off of everyone in the room.  The floppy brown hair and boyish good looks do well at hiding the strong man beneath his clothes.  He looks like he’s six-foot-something of solid muscle, and that he knows exactly how to use it, but he laughs and grins with the glee of a five-year-old in a candy store. 

 

After he shook Jensen’s hand with a wide palm and a firm grip, he greeted him with a lopsided smile and a deep Texas drawl that endeared him to Jensen immediately.  Now Jensen can’t help but watch as he makes his way around the office, speaking with some of the other members of the Service that are particularly close to Jensen, and he notices Chris studying Jared with intense scrutiny while he and Steve chat like they’re old friends.  Jake and Justin get in on the conversation a moment or so later, each getting a warning look from Chris that makes Jensen wonder.

 

“They’re taking to him quickly,” Jensen comments as Jeff Morgan steps up to his side.

 

“He’s easy to like,” Jeff shrugs. 

 

“Chris doesn’t look convinced,” Jensen points out.

 

“Chris doesn’t like or trust anyone other than himself and Steve,” Jeff snorts. 

 

“Think we made the right choice with this guy?” Jensen asks, because Jensen’s doubting what should have been an easy decision all because Jared’s smile made him tingly.

 

“I think he’ll do his best,” Jeff answers.  “I did all of his interviews and tests myself.  He’s a master marksman, a skilled counter sniper, he’s been in some pretty sticky situations and made the most of them.  Guarding you should be a cakewalk compared to some of the things he’s done.”

 

“Is this what he wants to do?” Jensen asks. 

 

“He was very enthusiastic about this job, yes,” Jeff replies.  “And before you ask, he understands the danger involved in protecting the leader of a country.  He’s been on the other side of the field.  He knows what to look for, what the risk is.  To be honest, I think he missed it.  Being stuck doing tedious field work from some office in Podunk is hell on a guy that’s accustomed to being a professional bad ass.”

 

“I suppose,” Jensen says, watching Jared crack a joke that has the whole group laughing.  Chris even cracks a smile.  “So long as I don’t have to bury any more bodies.”

 

“I can’t guarantee that, and you know it,” Jeff states.  “We’re going to catch these guys, but in the meantime, let’s do what Genevieve tells you and take it one day at a time.”

 

“One day at a time,” Jensen echoes.   He sure hopes he can do that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen rises bright and early the next morning.  As he goes about his usual routine, he starts to feel butterflies in his stomach.  This is ridiculous.  He’s the President of the United States, not some little schoolgirl with a crush. 

 

But for some reason, the idea of Jared Padalecki working so close, being so near, it makes him nervous.  And it’s less from the fact that the man is probably the most lethal person in his employ, and more that Jensen’s going to have a difficult time not staring.  Or accidentally popping a boner, which is just not dignified. 

 

He’s got his suit on and is ready to go when the knock comes.  It’s not unusual for someone to come get him.  As a matter of fact, for the longest time it’d been one of his junior staffers that had the unfortunate business of handing him his first cup of coffee and beating a hasty retreat, but since all of the threats and the shootings, it’s been one of his Service. 

 

Michael used to take his morning grumpiness with a grain of salt, would shove a steaming cup of straight black coffee into his hand and tell him to buck up.  That it only got worse from there.  Michael was a rarity even in the Service.  He did his job commendably and he died for it.  Jensen hopes he’s the last.

 

Jared, though, is something entirely different.  And Jensen doesn’t know what to expect.  Buy after having Jeff come collect him since Michael’s passing, Jensen doesn’t think it could be anything but better.  Jeff isn’t so pleasant in the mornings either.

 

As he moves to the door, he notices the slight tremble in his hand and forces it down, makes sure he’s steady before he swings the door open to find Jared Padalecki standing there in his suit, looking like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.  Jesus, that man can wear a suit. 

 

And then he smiles. 

 

“Mornin’,” he drawls, holding out a cup of coffee.  “I heard this would cheer you up.”

 

“You heard right,” Jensen replies, taking the cup and knocking back a couple of swallows.  It’s way too hot, and he knows he’s going to pay for it later, but damn it’s worth it.  He would mainline this shit if he could find a way.  “So, where to first?”

 

Jared flashes him another quick smile and then launches into a surprisingly detailed recitation of his agenda, and that’s when it strikes Jensen that there’s something off here.  Jared’s suit is pressed almost perfectly, his hair clean and tumbled artfully around his face, his eyes bright.  And then he gets it.  Oh lord, no.  Jared’s a morning person. 

 

A _peppy_ morning person.

 

This is going to be torture.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first week goes off almost without a hitch.  Jared shows up at the same time each morning with the same cheery disposition and the same cup of magical coffee, and he escorts Jensen throughout his day with nothing short of the best professionalism Jensen’s ever seen.

 

Jared does his job commendably, checking every room, organizing and coordinating with the other Service members when there’s a need to travel off of the White House grounds.  If Jensen’s being honest, he’s better than Michael could have ever dreamed of being. 

 

Jared is not the problem.

 

Jensen is.

 

In the first week alone, Jensen has not only developed an epic attraction to this man, he’s also grown to like him as a person.  Jared’s probably the most positive person he’s ever met, and yes, at seven in the morning it makes him want to throat punch him, but it’s his tireless enthusiasm that has more or less worn Jensen down.  Jensen would like this man even if it killed him, and he suspects it’s just Jared’s personality at his core.

 

Jensen can count on two hands the number of times he’s thought of trying to get to know Jared better but stopped himself before his mouth opened and said things without his permission.  And even if he did, Jared’s very tight-lipped in his day to day routine, insisting on staying focused on the task at hand and giving Jensen some very strange looks when he tries to start up conversation that doesn’t pertain to the job.  But that’s not counting the looks Jared’s been giving him when he thinks Jensen isn’t paying attention.  Jensen doesn’t know much about his newest guard, doesn’t know if he even plays for Jensen’s team, but there’s no mistaking the heat he sees.  Jared’s thinking about something, and it’s the only time he waivers from his duty. 

 

Eventually, Jensen’s going to make a bad decision.  He knows he is, and try as he might to justify throwing caution to the wind, he’s not sure he can.  Can he really do that to himself?  To someone else?  Maybe.  And if the subtle glances Jared’s been sending his way—glances that have _nothing_ to do with his job—mean anything, Jared might just be willing to make some bad decisions too. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been a trying day that not even Genevieve with all of her magical skills could help, and Jared seems to understand that as he escorts Jensen back to his suite.  Getting yelled at by foreign heads of state is one thing, but getting dressed down by the Speaker of the House—a right royal prick if you ask Jensen—is quite another matter entirely.  If Jensen could choke people through the phone, he’d have done it tonight. 

 

At Jensen’s barely muttered responses to Jared’s brief greeting, the ex-SEAL seems to have decided on taking a quieter approach to the evening, instead electing to walk with Jensen shoulder-to-shoulder, letting them bump together gently every few steps.  The touch can’t be anything other than unintentional, Jensen wouldn’t dare surmise otherwise, but it’s comforting, kind of lets Jensen think that Jared is there for him if he needs someone to lean on.  And just maybe that is Jared’s intent. 

 

“You going to be all right?” Jared asks as they stop by his door.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen sighs, running a hand through his hair.  “I think I’m just going to go start drinking and go to bed.”

 

“Would you like me to delay your schedule tomorrow morning?” Jared offers and Jensen can see the concern he has.  It almost makes him stumble back when he realizes what he’s seeing.

 

“No,” Jensen shakes his head.  “I’m not going to actually get drunk.  Those days were over when I graduated college.  I should be fine, I promise.”

 

“If you say so,” Jared says.

 

Jensen just nods. 

 

“Good night, Mr. President,” Jared states his usual goodbye and gives Jensen another once over, searching him for something and Jensen has no idea what, but he’d certainly like to.

 

“Jared?” Jensen calls as he begins to turn away. 

 

Jared turns back to him, hazel eyes intense in the dim light as Jensen waivers on the edge of a decision that has the potential to bring ruin upon him.  But he’s waited long enough already and he’s tired of it.

 

“You want to come in for a bit?” Jensen offers, opening the door to his private suite a little wider.

 

“Sure,” Jared smiles at him, making him feel warm and at ease and then straightens a bit and glances back down the hall.  “Nothing to be concerned about,” he speaks clear enough for his microphone to pick up.  “Just going to visit.”

 

“Coming?” Jensen asks, watching the look Jared sends toward whoever was speaking in his ear.

 

Jared nods and Jensen waives him through, shutting the door behind him.  He moves over to the whiskey decanter while Jared looks around the room.

 

“There’s so much history in here,” Jared comments as Jensen holds the decanter up in offer, Jared declining like they both knew he would. 

 

“Yeah, you can really get a sense of past Presidents sitting around in here, drinking and discussing the current state of the country,” Jensen agrees, taking a healthy swallow of his drink, relaxing at the slow burn in his chest.  “So, no more excuses,” he begins, sitting down on one of the settees and directing Jared to sit as well.  “Tell me about yourself.”

 

Jared sits on the armchair opposite of him and gives him another one of his funny looks.

 

“Something not in your folder,” Jensen elaborates, setting his glass down on the table next to the settee and regarding Jared as casually as he can, as casually as anyone could.

 

“There are things you don’t know?” Jared asks, surprise and amusement written on his face.  “I was under the impression that the background check was very thorough.  As in you have pictures of macaroni art I did in kindergarten _thorough_.”

 

Jensen laughs at that and relaxes a bit more in Jared’s presence. 

 

“Chris and Jeff probably went that deep, but they only bothered to give me an overview,” Jensen states.  “You know, for a SEAL, you’re pretty funny.”

 

“I’m hilarious,” Jared grins.  “It’s about the only thing they couldn’t train out of me.”

 

“I’m glad,” Jensen says.  “What was that like?  SEAL training.  I’ve always wanted to know.”

 

“It was pretty rough,” Jared says, looking like he’s putting lightly, and chances are he is.  “The good news is that if we’re ever stranded anywhere with hostiles, I can get us out.”

 

“Always good to know,” Jensen smiles.  “So you liked it?”

 

“Yeah.  I mean, it was really intense,” Jared sighs, eyes thoughtful as he glances away from Jensen.  “I can see why a lot of guys came out different.  It’s hard to… I don’t know, keep sight of who you were going in when you know what you can do now.  When you hit what you thought was your limit every day, that your only options were _quit_ or _die_ and you kept going because you knew you’d rather die than quit.  That quitting was no longer an option.  And that’s when you knew there were no limits to what you could do,” he explains and Jensen listens with rapt attention, completely drawn in by the sound of Jared’s voice. 

 

“That sounds incredible,” Jensen says softly.  “And why were you discharged?  If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t,” Jared flashes him a quick smile, letting him know that he didn’t pry too much.  “We went on an unsanctioned mission in Central America,” he begins.  “It was supposed to be a quick in and out, an assassination masquerading as a search and seizure.  But we were ambushed.  Two of my team went down and there was no help coming.  If we were injured, we had to get ourselves out to the nearest base on our own.  And if we died they’d bury the circumstances until the mission became declassified,” he says. 

 

“I ended up carrying one of our guys out of the jungle through two days of enemy fire, stole a boat, and got what was left of us to an air base all with a bullet in my thigh,” he pauses and Jensen lets out a hiss.  This man is incredible, and Jensen knows that every little thing he learns about Jared makes it harder and harder to ignore the way his whole being reacts to the other man’s presence.  “I got a medal I can’t really talk about, and then they gave me an honorable discharge because I told them I was gay.”

 

“That’s been repealed,” Jensen says, heart hammering in his chest at Jared’s confession.  Inviting Jared in has officially gone from possibly being a run-of-the-mill poor choice to being a very, very bad decision.  And Jensen’s definitely in trouble now.  What was once wishful thinking and looking for things where they might not really exist is now reality.

 

“It didn’t matter,” Jared shrugs.  “It’s the SEALs.  A soldier that doesn’t want to be there is a danger for the team, and I’d had enough.  I didn’t want to be involved in executions and after almost dying for something I didn’t sign up for I just wanted out, so they let me go.”

 

“And the mission you were on?” Jensen asks.  “Did you get your guy?”

 

“Oh yes,” Jared practically breathes, a dark smile crossing his face.  “I got him.”

 

 

* * *

                                                                                                                

 

It’s a couple of nights of dancing around each other before Jensen puts them both out of their misery and invites Jared back in.  This time there’s no third degree from the other end of Jared’s ear piece, and the sign-off goes off without a hitch.  Jensen grabs them both water, forgoing the alcohol he’d rather have, and they sit opposite each other again, exchanging small talk and easing into deeper matters, getting to know each other better.  It’s dangerous, Jensen knows, because the more he finds out about Jared, the more he finds himself _wanting_ Jared, but he hasn’t done anything for himself for so long that he justifies allowing this to go on a little while longer.

 

“I’ve got to ask, and I know you must have answered this a thousand times, but what was it like, accepting the nomination?” Jared asks.

 

It catches Jensen a little off-guard.  It’s not that he wasn’t expecting it.  It’s more that it had never even crossed his mind.

 

“Exhilarating, humbling, surreal,” Jensen answers honestly.  It had been the most amazing moment of his life other than the birth of his daughter. 

 

“You looked surprised,” Jared comments with a small smile as Jensen’s eyes are glued to him.  “I watched the convention,” he explains.  “I remember you looking like you still couldn’t quite believe that it was you.”

 

“Trust me when I say that I still can’t quite believe it’s me,” Jensen responds.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, you totally nailed your acceptance speech,” Jared says.  “Made me want to vote for you, not that I was going to vote for the other guy, but still.”

 

“You constantly surprise me,” Jensen states. 

 

“I like to keep people on their toes,” Jared says.  “I enjoy not being able to be categorized as just one thing.”

 

“As do I,” Jensen agrees.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They fall into habit so quickly and easily, Jensen can’t really remember what it’s like to end his day _without_ having some kind of talk with Jared.  It’s nice.  He feels like he has a friend, a _real_ friend, and not just because he’s the president or his office is paying for it.  Sometimes, it just seems like Jared gets him in a way that not even Danneel did, which is shocking in itself because she knew him better than he knew himself. 

 

He must have been thinking about her, that’s the only reason he can think of that would make Jared think of her too.  He hasn’t mentioned her yet and for good reason.  It takes him to a dark place in his life that he’s still fighting his way out of, and he’d rather not bring that into this thing he has with Jared and his bright, energetic way of just being.

 

“How’d she die?” Jared asks, though, and Jensen feels his heart skip in his chest.

 

It was sure to come up sometime, his late wife, but he had been hoping on later rather than sooner.  He sighs, feeling himself sink deeper into the sofa as he glances up to find Jared’s kind and understanding gaze on him.  He’s playing with fire, allowing this thing to build between them, but it’s too late now, and he knows Jared need only ask and Jensen would gladly give him the world.

 

“Um, it was a car wreck,” Jensen clears his throat. 

 

It still hurts to talk about it, and it probably always will, but sharing this with Jared, allowing Jared in that much further feels like relief more than anything.  Every inch this man has claimed, Jensen has willingly surrendered.  He couldn’t fight him even if he wanted to.  So he takes a deep breath and continues. 

 

“A blood clot moved into her brain and by the time they caught it, it had ruptured and she went into a coma,” he explains, and he can still see her in his mind’s eye, laying there helpless and dying while he had all of the power in the world but still couldn’t save her.  “She died a few days later.  It felt senseless at the time.  Still does.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jared whispers.

 

“It’s all right,” Jensen waives him off.  “At least, it is now.  Now I can remember her as she was—vibrant, happy, beautiful.  I remember all of the little things she used to do, like match my shirts and ties.  I can still remember the exact color of her hair, and sometimes, for just a split second when I catch sight of long red hair, I think it’s her,” he says, a fond and wistful smile crossing his face.  “Letting go has been hard, but I think I’m finally starting to recover.  Talking to you has been a big part of that.”

 

Jared gives him a warm smile then and Jensen feels his heart stop for a completely different reason.

 

“I’m glad,” Jared responds.

 

“Let’s put you in the hot seat now,” Jensen insists, blowing out a deep breath and shaking off the melancholy that Danneel’s death always brings with it.

 

“What would you like to know?” Jared offers openly.

 

“When did you first know you were gay?” Jensen asks.

 

“God, man, I don’t know,” Jared laughs a bit nervously.  “And it was never obvious, _I_ was never obvious.”

 

“Yeah, I would have never known if you hadn’t said something,” Jensen agrees.

 

“Pretty much,” Jared smiles.  “I’m just a regular guy that happens to like other guys,” he says.  “And I guess I got my confirmation in high school.  I’d been dating this girl for a while.  She was a cheerleader, real tiny and cute.  Her older brother, though… I thought what I’d felt was hero worship, but when he cornered me in the bathroom and stuck his tongue in my mouth and his hand down my pants, I figured things out from there,” he answers Jensen’s questions.  “And how about you?  How did you know you were straight?” Jared jokes.

 

“I’m, uh… I’m actually not,” Jensen admits, throwing all caution to the wind.  “And that’s something that can never leave this room,” he says sharply, watching Jared carefully as he processes the information quickly and calmly.

 

“Your secret is safe with me,” Jared says finally.  “You know that.”

 

“I do,” Jensen nods.  “But one can never be too careful.”

 

“Yet you chose to share it with me,” Jared replies, leveling those sharp hazel eyes at Jensen.  “Any reason?”

 

“I trust you,” Jensen says.  “With my life.”

 

“And your secrets?” Jared asks with the arch of one of his eyebrows.

 

“Yes,” Jensen replies as Jared continues to study him.  “I did love her,” he states, only guessing at what Jared could be thinking.  “She’s the only woman I’ve ever been in love with.”

 

“I know,” Jared gives him a smile.  “You glow when you talk about her.  It’s obvious she was very important to you.”

 

“She was,” Jensen agrees.  “I never hid behind her, not really.  Every moment we were together was real, but she knew about me.  She knew everything.  She was the one exception for me, and I know that I’ll never find what I had with her with another woman.  They just don’t interest me.  But I can’t come out now, not when people are taking so many shots at me.  I have my daughter to think about and Chris would kill me in my sleep to save you all the stress of having to protect me.”

 

“I don’t know about _that_ ,” Jared gives him a smile for his joke.  “Is that something you want to do?  Come out?”

 

“I do,” Jensen answers.  “I think we’re at a place as a country where it can be accepted, but…”

 

“Chris and Jeff don’t agree,” Jared finishes and Jensen nods, leaving out the laundry list of other people in the know that would side with Chris and Jeff, like his VP Misha and Genevieve, his Chief of Staff.  “I’m sure when the time is right, you’ll be the one to lead us into the next generation of politics.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Jensen laughs.

 

“Is being president something you ever saw yourself doing?” Jared asks.

 

“Until Danneel, no,” Jensen replies.  “It was something I had considered idly like most people do, but I didn’t really think I could have it.  When it first seriously crossed my mind, this country wasn’t ready to elect a single man, much less a single _gay_ man.  But now, I don’t know.  Everything’s so different.”

 

“And what about that marriage amendment you’ve been trying to push through?” Jared asks and then grins at Jensen’s surprised look.  “Yeah, I keep up with _some_ current events.  What do you think the response would be if you were married to a partner?”

 

“Well, maybe someday soon a man or a woman can be elected with a same sex partner and be seen as equal to their heterosexual counterparts,” Jensen says thoughtfully.  “It’s something I’ve been working toward, and I hope to achieve it in my lifetime.”

 

“Smart money says you’ll do it,” Jared says encouragingly, confidently.  “If anyone can, it’s you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but he knows that this thing he has for Jared isn’t going away.  The way his chest feels tight and his stomach drops out when he sees Jared is enough for him to know that he wants him.  Bad.

 

And it’s nothing particularly new to Jensen.  Up until Danneel, he had self-identified as exclusively attracted to men, but when she came along and blew his perceptions to bits, he conceded that maybe he was a bit more sexually flexible than he’d originally thought.  But after she died, he closed down, hadn’t even thought he’d feel anything for another person again, be it male or female, not with a country to run and not as a widowed single father. 

 

He should have known better.  Trying _not_ to fall for Jared is about as difficult as nailing jello to a tree.  He never stood a chance against that floppy hair, his brilliant smile with those ridiculously sexy dimples, and just about everything else that makes up Jared. 

 

And if the signals Jared’s been giving off, however subtle, have been correctly received, then Jensen’s not alone.  Not alone, but not sure if he should act.  If Jared were a woman, there’d be no question.  Hell, there would probably be a healthy amount of public support.

 

Jensen knows he shouldn’t let public opinion dictate how he lives his private life, but he’s been under the microscope of the media for so long now that he’s not even sure if he knows how to make a decision solely on his own desires anymore. 

 

He wasn’t lying when he told Jared that he believes there’ll be an openly gay president in his lifetime, but he’s just not sure it’ll be him.  With all of the bad shit that’s been happening to him, he’s certain he would be dragged before Congress and thrown into the proverbial fire.  Even if he had public support, they’d find out that Jared is under his employ and that would _definitely_ not go over well.  It’s one thing to be outed in a gay scandal.  Happens all the time on Capitol Hill.  But it’s quite another to be caught in a gay scandal with an employee.  Christ, his own _bodyguard._

 

And what would that do to Jared?  To the Service?  To their families?  His daughter?  Dragging other people into his mess wouldn’t help anyone, no matter if it would make him happy.  Though as his personal guard, Jared’s about as deep into his problems as another person can get.  And yes, Jared’s job is to protect Jensen, but dammit, Jensen can do that too.

 

But all of the mental gymnastics and self control in the world crumble under the power of just one glance from Jared.  His will power leaves him with just one heated look, and Jensen is at Jared’s mercy.  He wants and he can’t turn it off, can’t turn Jared away, and he knows that a collision is inevitable.  They’re set on this path now, and he can’t even make himself feel the least bit contrite.

 

It feels too right for it to be wrong.

 

Jared pokes his head into Jensen’s office after knocking softly and he gives Jensen an apologetic smile that lifts a weight from his shoulders.

 

“Hey,” Jensen says in greeting, sitting back and stretching.  His back almost seizes, he’s so tight and exhausted these days.

 

“Hey,” Jared returns.  “You ready?”

 

“Ready?” Jensen echoes.  He can’t for the life of him remember anything he’s supposed to do.  And doesn’t he have people for that?  Where the hell are Benedict and Speight?

 

“Hiding, I suspect,” Jared smiles, and Jensen realizes he said that last part out loud.

 

“Ah,” Jensen says.  “I was a bit grumpier than usual this morning,” he supplies with a cringe.  Grumpy is putting it very, very gently.

 

“Everyone has off days,” Jared offers and then tilts his head out the door.  “Shall we?”

 

“Which appointment is this?” Jensen asks as he stands and grabs his suit jacket, sliding it on as he moves to join Jared.

 

“Video conference with the Prime Minister of Australia,” Jared answers. 

 

“Awesome,” Jensen says.  “Lead on.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Steve pays Jensen a visit in his office, he knows his secret is out and the blonde man all but confirms it with his opener of “we need to talk.”

 

“Jesus,” Jensen mutters.

 

“I’m guessing you already know what I’m talking about,” Steve says.

 

“Maybe,” Jensen responds.  “Pretend I don’t.”

 

“This thing you’ve got going on with Padalecki is pretty regular,” Steve states.  “It wouldn’t take much imagination to read into what you’re doing.”

 

“We’ve done nothing,” Jensen says.  “Just talked.”

 

“I know,” Steve says.  “But you want more.”

 

“I… I don’t know what I want,” Jensen says quietly.

 

“Yeah, you do,” Steve says with a slight, secret smile.  “You’re way more obvious than he is.  You’re going to have to work on that if you plan to keep this up.”

 

“If I… are you… what are you saying?” Jensen sputters out.

 

“Look, it’s not my job to judge, and lord knows I wouldn’t even if it was.  Everyone’s got a right to happiness, and that includes you,” Steve says.  “I’m not here to tell you how to live your life.  I’m just here to protect it.  And to tell you to use a little more discretion every now and then.”

 

“I… thank you,” Jensen breathes out deeply, feeling himself relax a bit more.

 

“It’s what I’m here for,” Steve smiles. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen is a tense line next to Jared.  He shouldn’t be this anxious on the one day he’s managed to negotiate with Genevieve to go play golf, but in the enclosed space of the car, he’s hyperaware of the ex-SEAL and just how attracted he is.  Jared’s staring out the window, sharp eyes looking for threats, no doubt, and Jensen wishes that they were alone, maybe even different people, because he’s finding it harder and harder to come up with reasons to keep Jared at arm’s length.

 

Jared stiffens suddenly and glances over to Chris.

 

“What?” Jensen demands in the dead silence of the car.

 

“There’s someone suspicious hanging around that building.  Could have a rifle,” Jared says, motioning to where he’s spotted the possible gunman to Chris.

 

Chris nods and pulls his cuff up to his mouth.  “Abel, go hot,” he orders.  “Middle of the tan building, fifth floor.”

 

“It’ll be all right,” Jared assures him as he tightens his jaw.

 

“I just think it’s stupid that people want to kill me,” Jensen says.

 

“They don’t want to kill you,” Jared says.  “They mostly want to kill an idea.  Assassinating the president is like destroying America or burning the Constitution or glorious revolution to these people.  You just happen to be a physical manifestation that they can make bleed.”

 

Jensen just stares as him.  So he’s not just another pretty face after all.  Not that he didn’t already know that from their time together, it just takes him by surprise is all.  He never expected that kind of insight from a soldier.

 

“What?” Jared asks.  “I’m more than muscles and a gun, you know,” he smirks, winking at Jensen.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen says, so quiet it’s almost a whisper.  “I know.”

 

“Tom and Mike have him,” Chris reports and then laughs.  “Abel’s bitching about not getting to use his gun.  It’s pretty funny,” he explains at the look Jensen gives him.

 

“I feel his pain,” Jared makes a sympathetic face.

 

“So we’re aborting?” Jensen asks, turning the conversation back on the day’s plans.

 

“Oh, hell yes,” Chris says, cutting him a dirty look.  “He could be acting alone or part of a cell.  We’ll only know after we question him.”

 

“Awesome,” Jensen grumbles.  He was really looking forward to his golf day.  “Well, then.  We’re going to the range, Jared,” he announces.  “I need to shoot something.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“How long has it been?” Jared asks, nodding to the Colt in Jensen’s hands.

 

“Years,” Jensen admits.  “It was perfectly fine for a young senator from Texas to be seen at a range, but not for someone trying to come across as presidential.”

 

“Campaign manager thought you’d look too rough for the big cities?” Jared asks.

 

“I think the name of Bush was thrown around some too,” Jensen sighs.  “It’s hard to be taken seriously when people assume you’re some backwoods yokel.  We decided it wouldn’t present the right image, one that would get support in demographics we would need to win the majority vote, and I went with it.”

 

“Well, let’s see how rusty you are,” Jared smiles, sliding a clip into his Sig.

 

Jensen watches as Jared chambers the first round in his gun and takes aim.  Jared’s shed his jacket and tie and has rolled his sleeves up, showing perfectly sculpted muscles in his forearms as he holds the gun steady and level, firing off three rounds into the target with well-practiced technique.

 

Jensen grabs his Colt and takes aim as well, firing four bullets into his target.  Unlike Jared’s laser-like aim, his first two attempts go wide to the left, the third low and to the right, and the fourth high.  He’s pleased with himself, despite being shown up by the ex-SEAL.  It’s been so long since he’s been allowed to have a gun in his hand, but with all of the shots being taken at him lately, everyone’s more concerned about his life than his career.  And it’s not like his opposition is going to complain about it, at least not while the conservative right is still in bed with the NRA.

 

He takes aim again and jumps a little when Jared’s hands come down on his shoulders.  He steps in close behind Jensen and suddenly Jensen can’t concentrate any more.

 

“You’re too tense,” Jared says in Jensen’s ear, so close he can feel the heat from Jared’s breath on his skin.  “Just relax and let it happen.”

 

Jared slides his right hand along Jensen’s arm, wrapping it around Jensen’s and gently covering the one Jensen has on the trigger.  Jensen has to take a deep breath to steady himself, making sure he doesn’t accidentally pull the trigger as he tries his damnedest to relax back into Jared.

 

“Just breathe in,” Jared instructs, and all Jensen can think of is the vibrations from his voice and the hard line of Jared’s body against his back.  “That’s it,” he encourages.  “See where you want it to go.  You remember this.  It’s like riding a bike.  Now exhale slowly and…” he stops softly, squeezing the trigger for Jensen.

 

Jensen’s almost surprised that he hits dead center.

 

“Again,” Jared commands, taking his hand off of Jensen’s and stepping back.

 

Jensen sways into Jared as he leaves, taking his heat with him, but he steadies himself and concentrates on the target, focusing on his aim.  He’s pretty amazed that he repeats the shot over and over as Jared tells him to do it again and again until he’s emptied the clip.

 

“Feel good?” Jared asks, a look of knowing in his eyes and a heat Jensen can’t quite describe.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees.  And it does feel good.  It makes him feel empowered again, in control and in charge of his own life.  “Thanks,” he offers Jared a smile.

 

“I think we need to do this more often,” Jared says, trading Jensen’s Colt for his Sig and motioning for him to line up again as he reloads the Colt’s clip, Jensen’s eyes drawn to Jared’s fingers as he works the bullets in effortlessly.  “It makes me feel better that you can protect yourself, especially if I ever fail to do so.”

 

“You won’t,” Jensen says softly, seriously.  “I know you won’t.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You coming?” Jensen asks when Jared doesn’t immediately follow him into the suite. 

 

He turns to see what’s going on and Jared gives him a funny look, eyes glued to him as he makes another face.

 

“What?” Jensen asks.  It’s pretty obvious that someone is talking in Jared’s earpiece.

 

“One moment,” Jared says, pulling out his earpiece and handing it to Jensen, a twinkle of amusement behind his eyes as Jensen takes the device from him.

 

“Yes?” Jensen asks as he put the piece in.

 

“You want to tell me what you think you’re doing?”

 

Chris.  Awesome.

 

“None of your business is what,” Jensen responds, ushering Jared into the suite and shutting the door behind them.

 

“The hell it isn’t,” I argues.  “And don’t tell me you’re just _talking_.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jensen replies calmly.

 

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about,” Chris states.  “I know that look, Jensen.  What you’re doing is dangerous.  If it gets out…”

 

“I know,” Jensen says.

 

“And you’re still going to do it,” Chris says and it’s a statement, not a question.

 

“Steve was much more understanding,” Jensen points out.

 

“Don’t worry about Steve,” Chris practically growls.  “I’m going to fucking kill him for allowing this.”

 

“And what’s your problem with this?” Jensen demands and he knows it’s unfair of him.  Chris is just doing his job. 

 

“It could get you killed,” Chris says.  “Did you think about that?”

 

“I can’t live my life afraid that something I do will piss some psycho off enough to grab a gun and come after me,” Jensen shoots back, eyes finding Jared again.  He’s still as a statue but he’s looking at Jensen with something warm that settles deep in his gut, making him more sure than ever about what he’s doing.  “That’s no way to live, Chris.”

 

“And if it gets you killed?”

 

“A risk I’m going to have to take,” Jensen responds.

 

“If you get shot or if you get any of us killed, I will strangle you in your bed,” Chris threatens.  “He’d better be worth it.”

 

“He is,” Jensen affirms.  “See you in the morning.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris grumbles.

 

Jensen hands the earpiece back to Jared, letting out a deep breath and a laugh.

 

“He can be intense,” Jensen comments, grabbing a glass and pouring himself a little whiskey from the decanter. 

 

“He’s just concerned about you,” Jared says, standing by the fire, his eyes on Jensen as he joins Jared.

 

“Give it a few more days,” Jensen shakes his head and takes a drink, steeling himself.  “You won’t be so quick to defend him then.”

 

“I think I’ll take my chances,” Jared smiles, showing dimples and white teeth and Jensen’s glad he’s leaning against the hearth because his knees have gone a little weak and he doesn’t really think he can stand on his own.

 

And taking in Jared all soft and glowing in the light of the fire makes him feel bold, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

 

“Chris aside, let’s say for a moment that I had something I wanted to ask you, something I wanted to say,” Jensen begins, feeling nervous for the first time in years.  “But that it could potentially wreck more than just _my_ career and paint an even bigger target on my back if it got out.”

 

Jared looks at him long and hard, hazel eyes considering, and Jensen feels itchy under the weight of his gaze.

 

“This is Padalecki.  I’m signing off for the night,” Jared states, probably to Chris, his eyes fixed on Jensen as he takes his earpiece out and shuts it off.  “I think by now,” he says, putting the device in his pocket, “I’ve proven that you can trust me with anything.”

 

“I know,” Jensen agrees. 

 

He knows Jared would never sell him out.  It’s just not in his blood.  And Jensen knows he’s not imagining things between them.  He recognizes the looks Jared gives him, how affected he is when they’re in close quarters, and he knows Jared looks forward to their nightly chats as much as he does.

 

And Jared can read him like an open book.

 

A slow smile spreads across Jared’s face, hot and lazy, and Jensen can feel himself flush deep in the low light of the room.  He hopes Jared can’t see that, because being laid that bare, even in front of this man, scares him more than he’s willing to admit.

 

“So,” Jared says in the firelight, eyes watching Jensen slowly and carefully as he takes a swallow of his bourbon.  “While we’re on the subject of destroying careers, ever consider doing anything… unexpected?”

 

“What do you mean?” Jensen asks, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass, glad that Jared knows him well enough by now to not make Jensen finish his thought. 

 

He can feel those hazel eyes on him, following his every move, and he knows what Jared’s getting after.  And god, does he want it.  But he’s got to be absolutely sure, _Jared_ has to be absolutely sure, because if he does this now, then he’ll have compromised his personal security and he needs Jared next to him like he needs air.  He never thought he could feel like this about someone again after Danneel died, but Jared’s healed him in ways he’s sure no one else could.  He’s good for Jensen, and for reasons he can’t comprehend, Jared wants him, gaping holes and mood swings and crappy politics and all.

 

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” Jared says, voice rich and warm and inviting as he steps closer, close enough for Jensen to feel the heat of his body through their clothes, and gently takes the glass from him, setting it aside.

 

“Oh?  And what’s that?” Jensen knows he’s playing dumb, but at this point, it’s really all he can do.  His brain isn’t functioning well beyond thoughts of Jared and how much he really wants the taller man to touch him.  He tilts his head up to get a good look at Jared, golden in the glow of the firelight, and lets his eyes fall shut as Jared kisses him softly, just a gentle brushing of lips. 

 

“Is that what you wanted?” Jared asks, breath puffing out against Jensen’s cheek.

 

“Yeah,” is Jensen’s response.

 

He takes a deep breath before tugging Jared to him, hand fisted in his shirt, and then he brings their mouths together again.  This kiss is anything but chaste.  It’s lips and teeth and tongue clashing together and fighting it out.  It’s hands pulling at clothes and struggling to get as close as they can to one another.  It’s grunting and groaning, trying to consume each other, climb into the other’s skin.  Jensen wants to feel Jared in his soul.

 

Jared’s the first to break away, his hands tight on Jensen’s hips as he holds him close.

 

“Jensen,” he breathes, his warm breath making Jensen’s skin tingle.

 

“Come on,” Jensen says, turning out of Jared’s hold and moving toward his bedroom.

 

“You’re serious?” Jared raises an eyebrow, still standing where Jensen left him by the fireplace.

 

“I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t,” Jensen says, opening the door to the dark room.  “You coming?” he asks, stepping through and leaving it open in the most blatant invitation he can extend, hoping Jared will follow him in.

 

Jensen smiles to himself as he hears the soft _snick_ of his bedroom door closing followed by Jared’s careful, measured footsteps across the floor.  When Jared’s hands come down on his shoulders, warm and heavy, his smile only widens.  Jared slides his hands down Jensen’s arms and move to his sides, traveling around Jensen’s stomach as he pulls himself in tight, his body a hard, hot line along Jensen’s back.

 

“Tell me what you want,” Jared murmurs in his ear, pressing soft lips to his pulse as he waits for Jensen to answer.

 

“I want you,” Jensen says, laying it all out there.

 

“And how do you want me?” Jared asks, nosing along the collar of Jensen’s shirt.

 

“What can I have?” Jensen responds, hardly able to focus with Jared all around him.

 

“Anything you want,” Jared promises.

 

“What if I want everything?” Jensen asks, turning in Jared’s hold and meeting his eyes in the dark.  He doesn’t have the luxury of just fucking around these days.  Not with a young daughter and definitely not as President.  They have to be in this together or Jensen knows he has to put a stop to it right now.  There’s no doing things by halves anymore.

 

“Then it’s yours,” Jared smiles warmly, kissing Jensen again, and his touch tells Jensen that he understands the gravity of them being together, even if it was never spoken between them, and it’s a relief.  He finally feels like he can maybe just be himself for once, in this man’s arms, with Jared.

 

Jared’s mouth is hot and inviting and Jensen loses himself in the ex-SEAL he knows he’s falling for, falling so hard and fast for this man who is giving Jensen anything and everything he wants without reservation, letting him in and letting him have all control.  He’s in awe of how freely Jared gives himself and he wants to return the favor, needs to.  His hands pull at Jared’s shirt, nearly tearing it in his haste to get Jared’s bare skin under his hands, needing to touch those muscles that have been making him itch and sweat and fantasize for weeks.

 

Jared, in contrast, is maddeningly calm, slowly and steadily working Jensen out of his clothes.  He’s already gotten rid of his shirt, pushing it from Jensen’s shoulders, neither bothering to do anything other than let it fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric.  Jensen’s pants are next, the fastenings giving way to Jared’s fingers and the weight of his belt doing the rest of the work.

 

“Get on the bed,” Jared says as he starts stripping himself, and Jensen obeys, toeing off his shoes and kicking his slacks away.

 

He pulls his boxers off before he climbs onto his bed and watches each and every muscle Jared reveals as he removes his clothes methodically, systematically.  And Jared appears to be just as comfortable naked as he is fully clothed, and Jensen can’t really fault him.  The man is a god, after all, and he thinks that it should be illegal to look _that_ good and be allowed to wear clothes.  Jared catches him watching then and smiles, slow and lazy, eyes leaving a burning trail as he drags them up Jensen’s body.

 

“See something you like?” Jared smirks, crawling onto the bed and dropping his mouth to Jensen’s stomach.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen gasps as Jared kisses his way up his chest. 

 

Jared smiles as he hovers over Jensen on all fours, and Jensen reaches up, pushing Jared’s long hair out of his face.

 

“I like what I see too,” Jared says, settling down on Jensen, skin to skin, and kissing him.

 

Jensen takes control, licking into Jared’s mouth as he lets his thighs fall open against Jared’s gentle nudging.  Jared grunts into him as he falls into Jensen’s open legs, their bare and hard cocks brushing against each other.  Jensen moans at the contact and shifts against Jared, rutting up into him as he slots his dick into the crease of the ex-SEAL’s hip.

 

“Fuck me, Jared,” Jensen half-moans, and if he weren’t so far gone already he might be embarrassed.  “Please.”

 

“Yeah?” Jared asks, freezing above Jensen and looking him directly in the eye, and Jesus, he should come with a warning.  That much turned on Padalecki should not be directed at anyone without a heads up first. 

 

“Yeah,” is the only thing Jensen can say at this point.  Anything else would either be embarrassing or unintelligible.

 

“Be right back,” Jared says, smashing their mouths together in a hard kiss before he moves off the bed, leaving Jensen feeling a little too cold for his tastes as he rummages in their discarded clothes.

 

He comes back a moment later, climbing back over Jensen like a panther stalking its prey, and Jensen never liked that metaphor before today, and now he’s thinking all kinds of cheesy stupid things. 

 

“You got something?” Jared asks, waving an unopened condom in front of Jensen.  “Steve said it would be very bad for my career if I gave the President an STD, but he didn’t think about lube.”

 

“Fucking Steve,” Jensen flushes and rolls his eyes in the dark as Jared grins.  He reaches over to his nightstand and retrieves the bottle he keeps in the drawer, slapping it into Jared’s outstretched hand.  “Here,” he says, a smile tugging at his mouth despite Steve having stuck his nose into his personal business.

 

Besides, what does he even have to frown about?  He’s about to have sex with Jared, and even if it sucks, it’s still likely to be the best sex ever.  He doesn’t even care if that doesn’t make sense.  And at the way Jared’s looking at him, all dark and predatory, Jensen just knows he’s about to get the ride of his life.

 

Jared pushes him back down onto his back and then slicks up his fingers.  It’s been before Danneel since the last time he did this, and even then it’d only been a couple of times.  But now, all Jensen can concentrate on, all he wants is to get Jared buried as far inside of him as he can.  He’s practically burning for it.

 

When Jared slips his slick fingers down to his hole, he hisses and twitches away at the cold sensation, but Jared’s calming him, apologizing for it and in a matter of seconds, his own body heat warms the slick up.  Jared teases a finger across his hole and then pushes it in. 

 

Jensen lets out a breath and a whine as Jared works his way in.  It’s not entirely how he remembered, but it’s not bad.  It’s rather good, actually, and it starts to make him feel tingly and pleasant after a few strokes, his body adjusting quickly.

 

“More,” Jensen whispers and Jared complies, sliding a second finger in with the first.

 

The sting and burn of stretching muscle is more apparent this time, and it takes Jensen a little while longer to ride it out, and he knows that what Jared’s packing is much, much larger.  Jared wiggles his fingers around, stretching Jensen with every turn of his wrist, and then he drags the tips over his prostate.

 

Jensen cries out, shuddering and arching against Jared as lightning shoots through his spine.  How he’d forgotten about that, he’ll never know.  He almost laughs when it passes, the raw, nerve-sharp pleasure it gave him making him feel strange and light and almost desperate for it again, and he pushes down against Jared’s hand, chasing the sensation.

 

“Need more?” Jared asks, voice husky and deep.

 

“Mmhmm,” Jensen agrees.

 

He has to bite down on his lip to keep from crying out as Jared pushes three long fingers into him.  It’s still uncomfortable at first, making him almost stop Jared, but if he does, then it all stops and that’s just not going to happen.  He’s fucking Jared if it’s the last thing he does.

 

When the burn wears off, Jensen’s decided he’s had enough, shoving Jared’s hand away and reaching for his cock.

 

“Whoa, slow down,” Jared says.  “Take it slow.”

 

“I don’t want it slow,” Jensen shoots back.  “We’ve been taking things slow for weeks.  Now are you going to fuck me?  Or are you just going to dick around all night?”

 

“Bossy,” Jared smirks.  “I like it.  I’m going to like fucking it out of you even more.”

 

It’s a promise, and Jensen feels himself tremble at the thought.  But even if Jensen’s being imperious about the whole thing, Jared doesn’t resist.  Seems his will power is waning as well. 

 

He tears open the condom wrapper with his teeth, taking it out and tossing the wrapper to the side before rolling it on.  He gives himself a couple of strokes, eyeing Jensen the whole time, and then he’s back over him, giving him a thorough tongue fucking before he takes hold of Jensen’s hips and guides himself in.

 

Jensen sucks in a gasping breath as Jared breaches him, letting it out slowly with every millimeter of Jared he takes.  Jared is big, much bigger than he gave him credit for, or so it seems.  But he’s hot and hard and pulsing inside Jensen so beautifully that Jensen can’t be bothered to mind that he’s being split apart. 

 

Jared pulls back and gives several shallow thrusts, each one slow and carefully measured, taking him deeper and deeper until he’s flush against Jensen’s ass.  Jared flexes into him even deeper and Jensen can’t help the sound that escapes his throat. 

 

“Come on,” Jensen goads.  “Give it to me.”

 

Jared barks out a short laugh before doing as Jensen asks again, pulling back and laying into him hard.  It punches the breath from Jensen and takes away his ability to ask for it again.  Not that he needs to.  Jared seems to understand what Jensen needs all too well as he sets up a most satisfying pace, leaning into Jensen, pinning his hands to the bed above his head, fingers laced together, as he pushes into him long and hard and deep.

 

“Oh my god,” Jensen moans, wrapping his legs around Jared and locking his ankles in the small of Jared’s back, pushing him deeper with every thrust.

 

“Just Jared,” he says smugly, and the only things keeping Jensen from snapping out a response are the strain in Jared’s voice and also his cock hitting Jensen’s prostate, turning his spine and brain and pretty much everything else to molten hot lava.

 

“Oh fuck, Jared,” Jensen gasps instead.  “Do that again.”

 

“Do what again?  This?” Jared asks, angling his hips to slam into his prostate again.

 

“Yes,” Jensen moans like a whore and he knows it.  “Please,” he begs.

 

Jared grunts and complies, pounding into the spot that has him seeing stars and leaking all over his stomach, and lord help him, he just might come like that.  But he doesn’t get to find out as Jared wraps a hand around him and strokes him rough and hard.

 

“Come for me, Jensen,” Jared orders and Jensen couldn’t stop it if he tried.

 

He arches and comes hard, eyes clenched shut as he tightens up around Jared, making it harder for him to keep up his pace.  Jensen rides his orgasm out, Jared’s hand gentling on him, milking him through the aftershocks.  Jensen twitches a couple of times and has to bat Jared’s hand away from his overly sensitive dick.  It’s too much, but dammit if he doesn’t want more.

 

And now, now he wants Jared to come too.

 

He wraps himself around the ex-SEAL, kissing him, sucking marks into his chest, and whispering dirty things to Jared as he loses rhythm and comes, shuddering and jerking into Jensen, his name tumbling from Jared’s lips the sweetest sound he’s heard in months. 

 

Jared kisses Jensen hard and sloppy then, slowly pulling out, leaving Jensen feeling empty but wholly sated.  Jensen runs his hands through Jared’s sweaty hair as the break apart and Jared gives him a lazy smile. 

 

“Holy shit,” Jared gasps, panting as he turns over and lays next to Jensen on the bed.  “I just fucked the President of the United States.”

 

Jensen laughs and scrubs a hand over his own sweaty hair.  It is a bit surreal, once he stops to think about it.

 

“That was amazing,” Jared says, turning to look at Jensen.  “You’re amazing,” he grins, leaning in and stealing another kiss. 

 

“So are you,” Jensen says against Jared’s lips.  “And you’re mine.”

 

“I’m yours,” Jared agrees.  “And you’re mine.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Jensen wakes, it’s to the sight of Jared sliding his dress shirt back on in the soft morning light coming in through the window, illuminating him and making him glow like some ethereal being.  He’s beautiful, fingers moving sure and steady as he buttons the white shirt up his toned chest.

 

Jensen lays there watching, Jared not having noticed him yet, and he enjoys this rare moment of vulnerability that he never gets to see from the ex-SEAL.  When Jared moves to his cuff, his eyes meet Jensen’s and he’s caught.  Jared’s looking at him warmly, a smile pulling at his mouth, dimples appearing with a flash of white teeth.

 

“Hey,” Jared says, soft and low.

 

“Hey,” Jensen echoes, pushing himself up as Jared comes over to him.

 

Jensen’s heart starts pounding in his chest as Jared closes in on him, leaning down and taking his lips in a kiss that he hadn’t been expecting.

 

“Good morning,” Jared says as he pulls back.  “You look surprised,” he comments.

 

“Not in a bad way.  I just…” Jensen trails off, looking down at his hands.

 

“I meant what I said last night, Jensen,” Jared sits on the mattress in front of him, reaching over and tilting his head back up, meeting his eyes.  “You asked me for everything.  Nothing has changed as far as I am concerned.”

 

“I… okay,” Jensen agrees, trying to get his bearings, to wrap his head around this man giving himself so freely and on Jensen’s terms.  “So, not a one night stand?”

 

“I don’t do one night stands,” Jared says, quiet and intense.  “Last night… _you_ mean more to me than that.”

 

“Good,” Jensen sighs in relief, feeling something settle in his chest that feels a lot like hope.  “I… me too.”

 

“Good,” Jared returns with a smile as he leans in to kiss Jensen again.

 

Jensen opens up for him immediately, groaning as he feels a heat curl low in his belly.  He clutches to Jared, hands finding purchase in the soft cotton of Jared’s shirt, and he pulls the ex-SEAL back down to lay on the bed with him.

 

“Stay,” Jensen murmurs against Jared’s mouth as he presses down over Jensen.

 

“Can’t,” Jared says, moving his lips over Jensen’s jaw to his neck.  “My boss is a slave driver.”

 

“Your boss wants you to fuck him,” Jensen groans as Jared’s teeth scrape across his skin.

 

“Kinky,” Jared chuckles, hands moving over Jensen and settling on his hips.  “Aren’t there laws against that?”

 

“ _Jared_ ,” Jensen whines, pushing up against him.

 

“I want to stay,” Jared says.  “Believe me, I want to stay in bed with you all day, touching you, learning everything about you,” he runs his hand over Jensen’s side.

 

“But you’ve got to go,” Jensen finishes for him.

 

“I have a very important man to protect, someone I care for deeply.  And I take my duty very seriously,” Jared says. 

 

“I know you do,” Jensen agrees.  “But why do you have to go?  I’m going to be in here and--”

 

“Exactly,” Jared says.  “You’re going to be here.  We have eyes all over the building.  You’re never without protection, even if I’m not with you,” he explains.  “But, I have a meeting with Jeff that I cannot miss.  If it were any other day, I’d blow it off, but this is important.”

 

“The UN?” Jensen sighs.

 

“Yep,” Jared confirms.

 

“I guess I can let you go, then,” Jensen says.  “But after?”

 

“I’m all yours,” Jared smiles.  “Whenever, however you want me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ll be a minute,” Jensen calls over his shoulder to Steve as he heads into the first bathroom he comes upon. 

 

He’s not entirely surprised that he’s not alone.  Of course Jared wouldn’t let an opportunity pass him by.  He’s only been eye fucking Jensen all afternoon.  Darting into the bathroom would be nothing and it’s not like Steve would stop him.  Steve is all but fucking _enabling_ them.

 

“What are you doing?” Jensen asks as Jared follows him in and locks the door.

 

“Making sure no one jumps you in the restroom,” Jared answers.

 

“No one but you, you mean,” Jensen says.

 

“Of course,” Jared smirks, pushing up behind Jensen at the sink counter, hands going to his arms as he leans in to nose at Jensen’s neck.

 

Jensen gasps and tilts his head, baring his neck to Jared as he meets his eyes in the mirror.  Jensen’s captivated by how wanton he looks, how he arches into Jared’s touch and how good, how dark and sexual Jared looks wrapped around him, touching him and bringing him to life.

 

“Look at us,” Jared says, hands sliding across his chest and inside his jacket.

 

Jensen can’t look away, though.  He’s completely mesmerized by Jared pinning him to the counter, a predator playing with his prey.

 

“Don’t look away,” Jared orders unnecessarily.  “I want you to see what I get to see.”

 

Jensen obeys, one hand braced on the counter as he slides the other around and into Jared’s hair, holding him tight as he nips and sucks at the skin on Jensen’s neck.  Jared moves a hand down Jensen’s side, over his hip, and settles it on the front of his slacks, cupping and squeezing his rapidly growing bulge.  Jensen grunts and pushes into Jared’s palm, tightening his hold in Jared’s hair at the feel of Jared coaxing him to full hardness and the erotic picture they make.

 

“I want you,” Jared whispers into his ear.  “I want to fuck you, Mr. President, right here in the bathroom.”

 

“You’re insatiable,” Jensen comments.

 

“Only when it comes to you,” Jared says. 

 

“I’m not _that_ young, Jared,” Jensen argues.  “And neither are you.”

 

“Tell that to my dick,” Jared says, grinding his rather impressive erection into Jensen’s ass.

 

“I swear, you’re not a day over twenty-one,” Jensen gasps, pushing back on Jared.

 

“I am where it counts,” Jared rubs his palm over Jensen’s dick.  “Seems your cock agrees with my plan, though.  And I think you’ve got a better recovery and a hell of a lot more stamina than you give yourself credit for,” he says.  “I mean, look at you.  I already made you come twice this morning and here you are, hard and panting for it again.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m not entirely sure that it’s not going to kill me,” Jensen says, but it’s not like he’s going to stop Jared.  That thought hasn’t even crossed his mind.

 

“You’re forty and healthy, Jen,” Jared points out.  “Not eighty with one foot in the grave,” he says.  “But as sexy as you are now, and believe me when I say you put GQ models to shame, I bet you were a hot piece of jailbait when you were younger.  If we’d met fifteen, twenty years ago, I’d have been all over you, and we’d have been young enough to fuck all day long.”

 

“Didn’t know you were into jailbait,” Jensen teases.

 

“I’m not.  I’m into you,” Jared practically purrs.  “And you, right here and right now, are better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.  And as easy as it would be to say that it’s only your pretty face that I’m attracted to, I’d be lying,” he says, eyes meeting Jensen in the mirror again.  “I’m so captivated by your mind, so sharp and brilliant, and your heart, your courage and will.  It makes me crazy sometimes how amazing you are.”

 

“Be careful putting me up on such a high pedestal,” Jensen warns.  “It’s only a matter of time before I’ll fall off.”

 

“I’m pointing out the things you don’t see,” Jared says.  “The things everyone sees but you.  And I’d never put you so high that I couldn’t climb up after you.  I am _not_ letting go, not now that I’ve got you.”

 

“Tenacious,” Jensen comments.

 

“I know what I want and I’m not afraid to go for it,” Jared flashes him a smile.

 

“And if I hadn’t wanted you?  What would you have done then?” Jensen proposes.

 

“That was never a possibility,” Jared laughs warm and low.  “I knew you wanted me the moment we met.”

 

“And just how did you know that?” Jensen fights a slightly embarrassed smile.  He didn’t think he was that transparent.

 

“Because your pupils dilated and you took a deep breath when you leaned in to shake my hand, and then there was that beautiful blush,” Jared says, brushing a hand over Jensen’s cheek as he flushes hot from arousal.  “Not unlike that.  God, Jensen, do you even know how hard it was to control myself around you?  How hard it was to wait for you to make the first move?  How crazy it made me to stand there and act like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off and take you?”

 

“There’s nothing stopping you now, Jay,” Jensen says, arching back into Jared as the ex-SEAL places his warm hand around Jensen’s neck and tilts his head back.

 

“No, there isn’t,” Jared says.  “You know, it’s practically pornographic how good you look like that, body begging for it, eyes dark and needy,” he holds Jensen on display for himself and Jensen’s almost blind with how turned on Jared’s making him.  It’s amazing how with just one touch, Jared can make him forget his circumstances and make him feel like he’s just a man again.  “And make no mistake, I’m going to have you right here so you can watch yourself, so you can watch how desperate you get when I fuck you.”

 

“Yes,” Jensen groans, rocking forward into Jared’s hand to relieve some of the pressure building inside.  He’s wound up so tight he’s sure it’ll take nothing at all to make him come at this point.

 

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Jared warns, hand working Jensen’s belt and slacks open.  “Don’t want the rest of the Service bursting in on us in the middle of me fucking you into the mirror.  Can you be quiet for me?  I promise I’ll make it worth the effort.”

 

“Anything, just fuck me already,” Jensen demands.

 

“In your fancy Prada suit?” Jared asks.

 

“I don’t fucking care,” Jensen groans.  “Please, Jared.”

 

“Quiet now.  I’ll take care of you,” Jared promises, pushing Jensen’s slacks and boxers down over his ass and moving his hand from Jensen’s throat to his shoulder.

 

With a steady pressure, he pushes Jensen down, bending him over the countertop to his hands.  Jensen’s spread out and exposed to Jared, feeling so naked before him despite being mostly clothed.  It always takes him by surprise how Jared can make him feel so bare. 

 

“Bet you’re still pretty open,” Jared says.  “I want to fuck you often enough to keep you open and ready for me all the time,” he groans into Jensen’s back, the black wool of his jacket absorbing most of the warmth from Jared’s breath as he leans into Jensen, hand trailing over his bare hip to his ass.

 

“Hurry, Jared,” Jensen urges, watching the top of Jared’s dark head over his shoulder in the mirror. 

 

Jensen almost shudders in relief as Jared slips a spit-slick finger into him nice and easy.  It soothes one need while ratcheting another up, Jared’s finger only temporary relief as his body’s desire for his cock grows.  Jensen squeezes down when Jared drags his finger back out and then has to bite his lip to keep from crying out when he comes back with two.

 

“You’re shaking so hard,” Jared comments softly, working his fingers deeper, loosening Jensen up quick and dirty.  “I know you want to talk, beg, moan so pretty, but you’re doing so good, Jensen.  Can you take three yet?”

 

Jensen nods jerkily, voice caught on a moan he’s squashing viciously.  Jared pushes three long fingers in and it’s all Jensen can do not to collapse on the counter.

 

“So good, Jensen,” Jared repeats.  “So hot and tight.”

 

Jensen almost moans in relief when he watches Jared tear open a foil condom package with his teeth, but pouts a moment later as Jared pulls his fingers out and steps back from Jensen, the heat of his body fading from Jensen’s clothes faster than he’d like.

 

Jared grasps Jensen’s shoulder as he steps back in and Jensen bites his lip again, worrying it raw in an effort not to make any noise as the slick head of Jared’s cock brushes his hole.

 

“Easy,” Jared commands in a low voice, fingers tightening on Jensen’s shoulder as he uses it for leverage to slide into Jensen, slow and controlled.

 

“Jared,” Jensen gasps.

 

“Look at me, Jen,” Jared orders.  “Look at yourself.”

 

Jensen does as commanded.  Jared’s face is tight in concentration, a flush working up past the collar of his dress shirt.  He’s beautiful, so beautiful Jensen can hardly look away.  When he finally manages to look at himself, he can barely recognize the man gazing back.  His eyes are wild, pupils blown, the green a small ring around the deep black center.  His lips are red and puffy from his abuse of them, and he looks so completely _alive_ , so in the moment, in surrender to Jared and his desire for the ex-SEAL.

 

When he drags his gaze back to Jared, he’s got his eyes on Jensen, meeting his stare in the mirror.

 

“That’s why I can’t stay away from you,” Jared says as he bottoms out, both of them gasping as Jared comes flush against Jensen’s ass.  “I don’t even _want_ to stay away.  Never did.  But when you’re like this, god, it’s like staring at the sun.”

 

“Come on, Jay,” Jensen begs, heat rolling through him at Jared’s touch and words.  “Give it to me.  Show me, take me.”

 

“Yes, Mr. President,” Jared grins at him, pulling back and then thrusting in hard, banging Jensen’s hips into the edge of the counter.  “Sorry,” he says, his other hand gripping Jensen’s hip tighter to pull him back into his thrusts.

 

Jensen’s response is a grunt, any words he might have said lost as Jared begins to fuck him how he wants, how they both need.  He can hardly look at himself, jaw dropped open and eyes half closed in bliss, and instead fixes his gaze on Jared, on that pretty red creeping higher on his neck, the hair framing his face starting to curl from sweat as he pounds into Jensen.

 

The bathroom is filled with the sounds of Jared’s harsh breaths and Jensen’s low, strangled moans, accompanied by the soft sounds of slick skin against skin and muffled clothes moving against each other as Jared slams into Jensen relentlessly.  Jared’s name finally works its way from Jensen’s throat, rough and needy, and Jared grunts in response, giving it to Jensen harder, hips snapping into him faster as he comes with a near-violent shudder.

 

Jensen still hasn’t come, but he’s not about to say anything, content to let Jared lay against his back as he recovers.  He’s surprised when Jared pulls off a few moments later, hissing as Jared slips from his body.  Then Jared spins him, pressing him into the counter and kissing him hard and deep, stealing his breath and leaving him dizzy as he drops to his knees and takes Jensen in his mouth.

 

“Fuck,” Jensen swears as his straining cock is engulfed in the heat of Jared’s mouth, his tongue teasing and licking along the length as Jared sucks him down with intent.

 

Jensen doesn’t stand a chance.  He barely gets a hand in Jared’s thick, soft hair before he’s coming down the ex-SEAL’s throat in thick pulses.  He collapses against the counter, heart racing as Jared greedily swallows down everything Jensen has to give him.  Jensen starts to absently pet Jared as he licks Jensen clean, mindful of his expensive black suit as he tucks Jensen back in and pulls his pants back up.

 

Jensen remains still, mind blown, while Jared cleans himself up, disposing of the condom and righting his clothes as well.  When he’s done, he puts himself back in Jensen’s space and tilts his head up, kissing him soft and slow.  Jensen melts against him and meets Jared halfway, hands curled loosely in Jared’s jacket.

 

They break apart a few seconds later when a knock on the door surprises them, followed quickly by an experimental turn of the handle.

 

“Everything all right in there, Mr. President?” Steve’s voice carries through the closed door.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen answers, clearing his voice at the rough quality.  “Just finishing up.”

 

Jared runs the water for show, even though they both know they won’t get anything by Steve.  And he’s right.  Steve gives them a knowing look when they exit, blue eyes mirthful as he takes in their appearance.

 

“Not a word,” Jensen warns.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“We need to talk,” Jeff says, slipping into Jensen’s office and shutting the door behind himself.

 

“You mad at me too, Jeff?” Jensen asks, looking upon Jeff appraisingly.

 

“Should I be?” Jeff arches an eyebrow, moving to one of the chairs in front of the desk that dominates that part of the office.  “I’m not Kane, you know.  You could give me some credit here.”

 

“I know,” Jensen sighs, glancing toward the older man.

 

“As your head of security, I feel obligated to ask if you know what you’re doing,” Jeff says.  “But you’re an adult, and I’m not going to.  I’m not here to make your choices for you, and I’m pretty sure Kane already beat me to it.”

 

Jensen snorts and smiles despite his defensiveness. 

 

“As long as he does his job, I really couldn’t care less,” Jeff states.  “It’s no business of mine who you screw or who he’s screwing, but it actually saves us all some trouble since we won’t have to vet him.”

 

“You’re being unbelievably cool about all this,” Jensen comments, still cautious.

 

“Son, you’ve been dealt a really fucking awful hand,” Jeff says.  “If he’s what makes you smile again, none of us are going to stop it.  Not even Kane.  And you are happier,” he says.  “We’ve all noticed.”

 

Jensen thinks about Jared, his floppy hair and chameleon eyes, those dimples and his strong jaw, how his muscles feel against Jensen and how sure, how protective and reverent his touch is.  He finds himself smiling and then he catches Jeff smiling as well.

 

“Just like that,” Jeff says.  “It’s been so long since you’ve _really_ smiled, Jensen.  It makes my heart easier knowing you’re all right.”

 

“I am,” Jensen confirms.  “For the first time in a long while, I really think I’m going to be just fine.”

 

“I’m glad I picked him,” Jeff says.  “Seems it was the best decision I could have made.”

 

“If I could promote you higher, I would,” Jensen chuckles.  “And thanks for understanding.”

 

“I’m not going to take you to task over who you see,” Jeff assures him again.  “I’m sure Kane’ll give you enough grief for all of us.”

 

“That reminds me,” Jensen begins.  “Who made us?  Chris or Steve?”

 

“Neither,” Jeff grins.  “This place _does_ have cameras, you know.”

 

Jensen blanches at Jeff’s words.  He’d never even stopped to consider that.  Fuck.

 

“Don’t panic,” Jeff says.  “That’s what your Service is for.  Damage control isn’t just for Speight and Benedict and Genevieve.  I destroyed the video the second I knew what was going on, and I’ve got Welling scouring every bit of footage from that first night you invited Padalecki into your suite—yes, I know all about that, too.  But we don’t need this getting out, and plausible deniability is out the window if there’s photographic evidence.”

 

“Which you’re taking care of?” Jensen asks.

 

“Like Big Brother,” Jeff smiles at him.  “We’ll always have your back, Jensen.  Even if we didn’t agree, we’d still protect you in whatever way was necessary, but luckily everyone loves you and you’re ridiculously easy to guard.”

 

“Even if someone pulls a gun on me almost every time I walk out the door?” Jensen asks.

 

“Even then,” Jeff assures him.  “Despite what Kane thinks, you don’t take stupid risks and you actually listen to us, which is more than I can say for your predecessor.  He was an idiot.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about _that_ , but what’s the point of even having you guys around if I’m not going to listen to you?” Jensen says.  “Seems kind of counter-productive to me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He can hear the voices outside of his office.  They’re arguing over who should go in and tell him something, both very reluctant to be named, and it’s getting old very fast.

 

He leans over and presses his finger to the intercom button, waiting until he can hear the sounds of the front office until he speaks.

 

“I can hear you guys,” he says, shaking his head in amusement when the people by his door fall silent.

 

A moment later Geneveive pushes through the door, throwing the staffers standing in shock just outside of his door a dirty look and rolling her eyes.

 

“Your mother is on line two,” she says.  “She also wanted you to know that she doesn’t care how important you think you are, you should still make time for her or she’ll go to the press and tell everyone what a horrible son you are.”

 

Jensen just laughs.  That sounds exactly like his mother, and Genevieve cracks a tiny smile, seeming to approve of his mother’s tactics.

 

“Thanks,” Jensen says in dismissal, waiting for the door to close behind Genevieve before he picks up his receiver and connects to line two.  “Hi, Mom.”

 

“ _Hi, Mom_?” his mother says incredulously.  “Jensen Ross Ackles.  I don’t hear from you in two months and all I get is _hi, Mom_?”

 

“I’m sorry,” he winces, even though he knows she’s just teasing him.  “I didn’t mean for it to be that long.  I just… things are so busy and I’m exhausted.  I know it’s no excuse—”

 

“It’s okay,” Donna shuts him up.  “You’re a very important man, baby.  I know it’s not easy to run a country.”

 

“No,” Jensen agrees, sighing and slumping back in his chair.  He tilts his head back and slings a forearm over his eyes, enjoying a moment to relax with his Mom on the phone.  It may be the only one he gets for a while, the time he spends with Jared not withstanding.  “But I still could have called.”

 

“Oh?  And when would that have been?  Between Pakistan and Russia?” she asks.  “Don’t you worry about me.  You just keep yourself healthy.”

 

“I’ll try,” he says.  “How’s Texas?”

 

“Hot,” she laughs. 

 

“And you guys?  Evie?” he asks.

 

“We’re doing just fine,” Donna replies.  “I’ve been gardening, your father’s taken up carpentry for some reason, and Evie got straight A’s on her last report card.  She was very proud of herself.  We’ve got a copy of it up on the fridge.”

 

“I’m proud of her too, Mama,” Jensen grins, happy that his daughter is doing so well but wishing he could be there to see her grow.  “I should have been there.”

 

“Oh, no.  Honey, she understands,” Donna says.

 

“Are you sure?” Jensen asks.

 

“We don’t keep anything from her,” Donna states.  “She knows how dangerous it is for you, and she knows that she’s here because it’s not safe for her to be there with you.”

 

“It was never safe for anyone else’s kids either,” Jensen points out.

 

“She’s knows it’s different this time, and that if you could be with her, that’s precisely what would happen,” Donna insists.  “She’s a very intelligent girl.”

 

“I know,” Jensen agrees softly.  “I just… sometimes I really wish things could be like they were.”

 

“One day, maybe,” Donna offers.  “So, tell me what’s been doing on in your life.”

 

“The usual,” Jensen says.  “Meetings, getting yelled at by crabby old men, and more of the same.”

 

“Chris tells me you have a new man in your Service,” Donna says.  Sometimes Jensen forgets that his Mom talks to Chris.  And Steve.  And Jeff.  And practically anyone else close to him, Misha and Genevieve included.  “Is he doing a good job?”

 

“The best,” Jensen says, thinking about Jared, and well, he probably shouldn’t do that on the phone with his Mom because thinking of Jared and talking to his mother are two things that shouldn’t mix.  Ever.

 

“What’s his name?” Donna asks, and sometimes it’s hard to tell if she’s fishing for something or just making conversation.  Her tone says it’s the latter, but his gut tells him she’s up to something. 

 

“Jared,” Jensen replies, almost cautiously.

 

“Do you like him?” Donna asks.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen responds, sitting up straighter in his chair.  “He’s easy to get along with.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Donna lowers her voice a little, and Jensen knows without a doubt that she’s getting her intel from Steve.  “What I mean to say is should I be making room for one more at holiday dinners?”

 

“I—” Jensen halts.  Now that his mother has proven his instinct correct, all he can think of is bringing Jared home to his parents, his daughter.  And yeah, he can see that, so easily too, and it makes him smile.  “I hope so.”

 

“Tell me about him,” Donna requests with a small amount of glee and Jensen feels warmth in his chest at his mother’s acceptance, acceptance that was hard won by Danneel and now passed on to Jared. 

 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop owing his wife for the good things in his life, her and maybe Jared too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s the most awkward thing in the world, this Congressional address.  And Jesus, Jensen can still feel the places where Jared held him down and fucked him silly just a few hours ago.  He knows that none of the bored, old men glaring at him know, but it feels like it’s written on his face.  It’s certainly written all over his body with every finger-shaped bruise and every mark that would perfectly match the shape of Jared’s mouth.

 

And it’s so hard to hold his concentration on the congressmen he’s trying to speak to when the things Jared does to him are all he can think about.  That and the way he stands, still as a statue with sharp eyes assessing the room, constantly searching for threats.  Not once does Jared look at him with anything more than a cursory glance, and Jensen’s grateful for Jared’s strict professionalism and discipline, because Jensen knows that if Jared were to fix those hazel eyes on him for longer than a second, he just might jump him and beg Jared to take him in front of everyone.

 

He knows he’s repeated himself a couple of times now, his brain constantly looping back to Jared, Jared, Jared.  The eye roll from a particularly combative freshman from Oklahoma is enough indication that he isn’t exactly on his A-game today, but fuck, he can feel some of Jared’s come trying to leak its way out of him, and fuck Jared and damn him straight to hell for convincing him that it was a good idea.  

 

He’s so going to kill him when this is over.

 

Or kiss him.

 

It’s later when they retreat into the dark Oval Office that Jensen makes up his mind.

 

“Do you know how hot it made me, knowing you were full of my come, standing there in front of all of those Congressmen, acting so prim and proper?” Jared breathes into his ear.

 

“Do you know how difficult it was, keeping a straight face while trying not to let it leak out of my ass?” Jensen snaps without heat.

 

“Careful,” Jared warns in a low, deep voice.  “Or next time I’ll pump you full of come and then plug you up, keep it all warm and wet inside you,” he says.  “On second thought, that’s a great idea.  It’d keep you all loose and open and ready for me to take whenever I wanted.”

 

“Sometimes I think you forget who I am,” Jensen says.

 

“I know exactly who you are,” Jared grins down at him.  “You’re _mine_ , Mr. President.”

 

“You’re unbelievable,” Jensen can’t keep the smile from his face.

 

“You like it,” Jared says.  “It makes you hot,” he practically purrs, stepping back into Jensen and crowding him against the desk.  “Admit it.”

 

He’s right, of course.  Everything about Jared makes him ridiculously turned on.  So much so that he’s completely willing to let Jared bend him over and take him on his desk in the Oval Office.  Where he’s signed bills into law.  He’s sure that Jared’s about to hit the jackpot in sexual fantasies involving the President, and he can’t really find a single reason to object.

 

“Think you’re still open enough that I could just slide right in?” Jared asks, voice dark.  “I bet you’re wet enough still.”

 

“Fuck,” Jensen swears quietly at the thought.

 

Jared leans in and brushes his lips against Jensen’s cheek, down his jaw, and settling in a wet, sucking kiss high on his neck.  High enough that his suit won’t cover it.  He knows he should say no, should stop Jared, but sweet baby Jesus, he’s found the spot that makes Jensen shiver and moan and buck against him.

 

“Get this off,” Jared orders, pulling away from the tender skin of Jensen’s throat with a pop, jerking Jensen’s shirt out of his pants and tugging at his belt.

 

“You too,” Jensen says.  “All of it.”

 

“All of it?” Jared asks, arching an eyebrow as something dark flashes in his eyes.  “You want to be naked in the Oval Office?  Where you give speeches to the nation and hold meetings with world leaders?”

 

“And where you’re going to fuck me on top of my desk,” Jensen states.  “Got a problem with that?”

 

“None at all,” Jared smirks, gingers plucking the buttons of he dress shirt open quickly as Jensen practically rips his jacket and tie off, tossing them to the side.

 

Jared’s eyes are on him the entire time, hands moving with an ease and fluidity that Jensen’s shaking fingers can’t replicate.  In no time at all, Jared’s standing naked before Jensen, his entire outfit folded neatly and placed in the seat of Jensen’s office chair while Jensen’s still struggling to get out of his shirt.

 

“Stupid fucking cufflinks,” he curses.

 

“Let me,” Jared insists, stopping his rough handling of the offending accessories and quickly undoing them, setting the cufflinks gently on top of his own folded clothes before turning his attention back to Jensen.

 

There’s something terrifyingly intimate in the way Jared attentively undresses Jensen, taking care to make sure his clothing remains intact and setting them folded just as neatly and next to his own.  Once Jensen is completely naked as well, Jared touches him, hands gliding reverently, ghosting over his flushed skin.  Jensen feels goose bumps rise in the wake of Jared’s touch, watching as a smile breaks across the ex-SEAL’s face.

 

“Hands on the desk, Jensen,” Jared commands softly in the dark of his office.

 

“What?” Jensen asks dumbly.

 

“Turn around and put your hands on the desk,” Jared elaborates in an almost stern voice, stepping back to give Jensen room.

 

Jensen does as Jared asks, but he barely contains a laugh as the compulsion to say _yes, sir_ almost overtakes him.  He bends forward, though, and braces himself on the smooth surface of the desk, feeling so exposed and excited as Jared moves up behind him.  He nearly jumps at the soft touch of Jared’s broad hand on his back, rubbing across muscle as he moves up to Jensen’s shoulder and then back down to the swell of his ass.

 

“God, Jensen,” Jared says, closer to Jensen’s ear that he’d thought, his breath hot as it tickles against his skin.  “If you could see yourself, all spread out and waiting for me, bent over your desk.  So gorgeous.”

 

Jensen’s response is a grunt of approval as he pushes back against Jared’s hand.  He’s so hard and ready for Jared, he just wishes the man would quit savoring the moment and fuck him already.

 

“Jared, please,” Jensen asks, begs, glancing at the man over his shoulder.

 

Jared looks amazing, backlit by the light coming through he blinds of the windows, haloing him in a soft blue glow as he towers over Jensen, contemplating what he’s going to do with him.  It’s then that Jensen notices Jared’s managed to produce a bottle of lube—probably compliments of Steve—and is slicking up two fingers, the liquid shiny in the light that’s filtering through.

 

“You gonna watch me open you up?  Get you ready to take my cock?” Jared asks.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen whispers, feeling a flush of heat come over him at Jared’s words.

 

“You’re amazing,” Jared says and Jensen sighs happily as the tip of Jared’s finger brushes his hole.

 

It’s no surprise, but definitely a relief when Jared’s finger slides in easily.  He’s still pretty loose from this morning, which is probably a good thing given how much he’s gagging for Jared to fuck him right now.  It doesn’t burn, but there is a pleasant stretch when Jared adds a second and third finger, spreading him wider while Jensen pushes back against his hand.

 

“You really want this, don’t you?” Jared says.  “You’re desperate for it.”

 

“Yes,” Jensen admits.  He most definitely is.

 

“Beg me for it,” Jared says.

 

“God, Jared,” Jensen groans.  “Please fuck me.  Please.”

 

“You can do better than that,” Jared says, leaning down and muttering the words in Jensen’s ear.

 

He pulls his fingers away and then he lines himself up against Jensen’s hole, and Jesus fuck, Jensen needs it in him.

 

“Jared, please,” he pants, straining back toward Jared who is _just_ out of reach.  “God, I need it.  I need you.  Please fuck me.  I want to feel you in me.”

 

“That’s better,” Jared says, slipping the head of his cock into Jensen.  “How do you want it?”

 

“Hard,” Jensen moans.  “As hard as you can.”

 

“Fuck,” Jared swears softly, taking Jensen’s hips in hand and sinking into him.

 

Jensen lets out the breath he’d been holding when Jared bottoms out, feeling so much better now that Jared’s inside him.  He’s so full he’s almost choking from it, Jared’s cock huge and stretching him so deliciously.  Jared pulls back and slams back in so hard he lifts Jensen to the tips of his toes and pitches him off balance.

 

Jensen falls to his forearms, gripping the desk top with the tips of his fingers as well as he can, trying to brace himself against Jared’s punishing thrusts and gain enough leverage to meet him halfway.  And Jared’s helping him out some.  Sort of.  His grip on Jensen’s hips is hard, digging in to aid in his ruthless use of Jensen’s willing body, and Jensen knows there’ll be bruises by morning.

 

“Jared,” the name is punched out of Jensen’s throat on the end of another thrust.

 

Jared moves his hands up Jensen’s body, a slow slide across sweat-slicked skin.  He runs one hand around Jensen’s stomach, holding him steady as he plants the other in Jensen’s hair, pulling his head back as he rides Jensen harder and deeper.  As Jensen arches into the tug on his scalp, each twist and tug an electrifying sting of pleasure and pain, the angle changes enough for Jared to stroke across his prostate with nearly every drive into his body.

 

Jensen is struggling for breath, the need for air battling the need to come as he gasps and tries to draw in enough oxygen against Jared fucking it right out of him.  His cock is hard and straining against his body and he wants to come, wants to touch himself, but he can’t take his hands off the desk without being crushed against it.

 

“Need you,” Jensen manages to force out.  “Touch me.  Please.”

 

Jared obliges him, taking his hand from Jensen’s shoulder and wrapping it around his throbbing dick, stroking him in time with his thrusts.  It takes an embarrassingly little amount of time before Jensen’s shuddering and moaning and coming into Jared’s hand, the tension in his body snapping and falling away with his release.

 

Jared drops across his back seconds later, his movements growing faster and sharper, his breathing heavy and swift, and then he’s jerking into Jensen, groaning into his skin as he comes deep inside him.  Jared turns Jensen’s head toward him and captures his mouth, stealing what little breath he’d managed to catch.

 

They break apart, Jared still too out of breath to keep up with any heavy making out, and Jensen inhales deeply, taking in their mingling scents, _Jared’s_ scent all over his body and his all over Jared’s.  It makes something primal purr with contentment at the thought that Jared has his scent imbedded in his skin, if only temporarily.  It’s heady, the thought deep inside that Jared has been marked, _claimed_ as his.

 

“How’re you doing?” Jensen asks as Jared remains silent for a little longer than usual.

 

“Great,” Jared says, voice rough and warm.  “Why?”

 

“Well, you just bent the most powerful man in the world over his desk and fucked him within an inch of his life,” Jensen points out.  “Just making sure you’re still with me.”

 

“I’ll be with you for as long as you want me,” Jared promises, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.  “And I think I’m starting to get used to the whole fucking the president thing, even though it still takes me by surprise on occasion.”

 

“I’m just me,” Jensen says.  “Remember that.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re really hot,” Jared states with a small chuckle.

 

“So are you,” Jensen returns.  “So, what’s it like, fucking the president?” he asks, teasing.

 

“Earth-moving,” Jared smiles.  “Incredible.  But that’s mostly because of you.  What’s it like fucking a SEAL?” he returns.

 

“Life-changing,” Jensen smiles back.  “I think you’ve ruined me for everyone, myself included.”

 

“I try,” Jared responds, cocky and with good reason.  He sure knows how to use what he’s got with devastating results.  _Try_ is the biggest under exaggeration ever.  Jared is an expert at fucking Jensen.  It’s like he was _made_ for it.

 

Jared slips from his body then, Jensen hissing at the sensation and then collapsing fully onto his desk as Jared pulls away, leaving his back open to the cool air in the office.  Jared rummages around the office for a moment and comes back with a handful of tissues, cleaning Jensen up and wiping come off of his desk as well.  He starts to get dressed then, Jensen following suit, both exchanging smiles and warm looks as they get their clothes back on and help each other not look like they’ve been fucking.

 

Jensen thinks that as long as a hickey doesn’t pop up, he’ll be fine, but there’s no saving Jared at this point.  His clothes might be in good condition, but his hair is a downright mess that refuses to cooperate, and there’ll be absolutely no getting that past his staff.  Not that he’s ashamed or anything.  It’s just not very professional of him to fuck his personal bodyguard in the Oval Office. 

 

He’s sure past presidents and founding fathers are rolling over in their graves right now.

 

“How’re we going to make our escape?” Jensen ventures to ask as Jared fits his earpiece back in, making a face the moment he switches it back on.

 

“I hadn’t realized that was physically possible, Kane,” Jared says, eyes on Jensen as his lips threaten to twitch upward in a smirk.  “Nothing.  He’s fine.  We’ll be there soon.”

 

“Is he mad?” Jensen asks.

 

“Nah,” Jared shrugs it off.  “Just felt left out.”

 

“I doubt that,” Jensen snorts.

 

“Come on,” Jared says, glancing around the walls of the office for the back door.  “We’re taking a back passage.  We’ve got to get you to a video conference.”

 

“Great,” Jensen grumbles.  “We can’t just go back to my suite?”

 

“I’ve capitalized enough of your time this evening,” Jared says, his eyes going dark as he fixes them on Jensen again.  “But I promise to make it worth your while tonight, if you let me get you to this conference.”

 

“Lead the way, then,” Jensen sighs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jared rolls him over and lays a hot, wet kiss on his chest that Jensen arches into.

 

“Hey, I had an idea earlier today,” Jensen begins, but Jared is not deterred.

 

“Hmm?” is Jared’s response as he attempts to suck another mark into Jensen’s skin.  As if he didn’t have enough already.

 

So Jensen stutters out something along the lines of spicing it up a bit, being a bit adventurous, maybe even doing some quasi role playing where Jared is a SEAL on a mission and he’s captured Jensen and must interrogate him.

 

“By fucking the answers out of you?” Jared raises an eyebrow at him.  “You want me to be rough with you?  You want me to hold you down and take what I want?” he asks.

 

“I’m not going to break, you know,” Jensen says.  “You can rough me up a little.”

 

“Oh, I know,” Jared returns, eyes raking up and down Jensen’s body, calculating, planning, promising.

 

Jared surges up to kiss him, running his hands down Jensen’s arms and then taking hold of his wrists and shoving them over his head.  Jared then wraps his large hand around both of Jensen’s wrists, holding him firmly in place. 

 

“Is this what you want?” Jared asks, leaning in and nosing along Jensen’s neck, the bare touch and dark tone to Jared’s voice making Jensen shudder as heat spreads through his gut.

 

“Yes,” is Jensen’s barely-spoken response. 

 

Jared gives a grunt of what Jensen can only classify as approval, and then he crashes their mouths together in a hard, bruising, consuming kiss.  Jensen keeps up as best he can, giving as good as he gets, but all too soon, Jared’s pulling back, nipping and biting and sucking his way down Jensen’s jaw.

 

Jensen hisses with every sharp nip and he lets out a gasp as Jared latches on at his collar bone, and then when Jared wraps a tight hand around his aching dick, his brain shuts off.  Jared applies the perfect pressure as he moves his hand up and down his shaft, and then he does something with his wrist that Jensen’s never experienced and it nearly has him coming.

 

“No, you don’t,” Jared warns, squeezing tight around the base, staving off his orgasm.

 

Jensen whines and tries to push against Jared to get the friction he needs, and it’s not that he wants to come so soon.  It’s just that once he gets that close, it’s absolute torture to turn back. 

 

But then Jared is shifting, putting more weight on Jensen’s wrists as he straddles Jensen’s waist, giving a quick grind of their straining erections before moving up, bringing his hard, flushed cock closer and closer to Jensen’s face.

 

“Open up,” Jared commands.

 

When Jensen doesn’t automatically comply, Jared takes his free hand and forces Jensen’s Jaw open wide.  Jared trails his fingers around his lips, eyes following their path with obvious fascination and lust.  Jared takes his hand back and wraps it around his leaking dick and it’s then that Jensen understands.

 

He opens his mouth wider and drags his eyes up to Jared’s, silently giving him the permission he seeks.

 

“Fuck,” Jared mutters as he pushes his hips forward and feeds Jensen the head of his cock.

 

Jensen closes his mouth around it and sucks, flicking his tongue over the slit, tasting Jared and priding himself on the shiver that runs through the ex-SEAL’s body.  Jared pulls back and then rocks back in, giving Jensen more.  He continues with gentle pushes, each time going a little deeper until he’s hitting the back of Jensen’s throat, and it’s been since college but Jensen’s definitely willing to give deep throating another shot, especially if it gets him another one of those magnificent sounds Jared’s been trying to bite off.

 

Jensen does his best to relax his throat and take more of Jared in.  If he could speak, he’d tell Jared to go for it, that he wants this, wants to try, but he can’t so he tries his best to suck Jared down harder, keep him deep longer, and when Jared’s eyes widen a bit in sudden realization, Jensen knows he gets it.

 

“Gonna take it?” Jared asks, voice gravel-rough.  “So greedy for it.  You want it all?  Want me to fuck your mouth?”

 

Jensen groans around Jared’s dick and Jared shoves back in a little faster, pushes a little deeper.  The angle is all wrong for it, but Jared’s doing a damn fine job of it and Jensen’s doing his best to take what’s given to him, watching with pride as Jared pants and moans above him, a flush covering his chest as he works in and out, his hand flexing around Jensen’s wrists with every thrust.  He’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat that Jensen wants to lick off, and he’s particularly desperate to get his mouth over the veins on Jared’s arms where they stand out.

 

Jared makes a noise, painful and full of remorse, and then he pulls out quickly, getting a hand on himself to stop from coming too soon as well.  Jensen lays there, panting for breath and completely satisfied with the knowledge that _he_ did that to Jared, that he almost made him completely lose control.

 

“Why did you stop?” Jensen asks, throat raw and scratchy.

 

“When I come, I’m going to be buried so deep in you you’ll feel me for days,” Jared states, dark and low.  “And I’m going to be fucking you so good you forget anything but me.”

 

_Already there_ , Jensen almost says, but stops himself at the last minute.

 

“Turn over,” Jared orders as he releases Jensen’s wrists. 

 

Jensen doesn’t hesitate this time.  He turns over as quickly as he can and waits for further instruction.  Jared shifts over him, reaching toward the nightstand where he keeps the supplies they’ve been using far more often than he’d expected.  It’s kind of nice to know that Jared wants this just as much as Jensen.  There’s a soft sound of something light hitting the bed and then Jared’s pushing his hips up and nudging his knees open, and Jensen goes willingly.

 

“Hands behind your back,” Jared says from behind him.

 

Jensen does as he’s told, making sure he’s not bent awkwardly at the neck or anything before he reaches both hands to grasp each other against his lower back.  And he nearly laughs at what he must look like, face down and ass up for Jared.  But Jared’s warm breath against his ass stops every thought in his brain. 

 

Jared presses a kiss to the flesh he finds there and then fingers are pulling him open, one slick and cold digit going directly to his hole.  He tenses a little at the chilly sensation, but when Jared pushes that finger inside, it’s all he can do not to burn up around him.  Jensen hums in approval of Jared’s long finger stroking into him, wiggling and moving, mimicking what Jared’s going to be doing with his cock later.  And Jensen wants it so much he can almost taste it. 

 

When Jared presses a second and then a third finger in, Jensen moans outright.  It feels good, even with the burn of being stretched, and Jensen just wants more, even begs for it.  Jared just laughs.

 

“You’re not a very good captive, making demands,” Jared says.  “Maybe I should spank you for getting out of line with me.”

 

“Oh god,” Jensen groans at the thought.  And it’s completely silly because he never expected spanking of all things would turn him on. 

 

Jared lands a hard crack on one of his ass cheeks and Jensen cries out in surprise. 

 

“Gonna be better now?” Jared asks.  “Or should I get my belt?”

 

“I’ll be good,” Jensen says quickly.  He’s not sure he can handle _that_ right now.  But maybe someday. 

 

“Good,” Jared says and kisses the stinging patch of skin.  “You’re doing so good,” he murmurs against his skin as he presses his fingers back into Jensen.

 

It’s seconds later that Jared must deem him ready, because he takes his fingers out and moves around, positioning himself.  He rubs the head of his dick over Jensen’s hole, teasing him, riling him up again, and he grabs hold of Jensen’s wrists again, using them as leverage as he lines them up and then pulls Jensen back onto his cock as he thrusts in. 

 

Jensen feels the air catch in his chest.  It’s almost like being punched from the inside, and he can barely breathe.  Jared sets up a hard, punishing pace, his hold in Jensen’s wrists moving up to his upper arms where he grips him hard as he rides him.  And all Jensen can do is try to push back to meet him, which is hard because Jared’s got his own ideas of when he wants Jensen to move, and damn if he’s not right about it. 

 

The way that Jared’s fucking Jensen, the way he’s using his cock should be illegal.  Jensen’s barely coherent enough to think about anything but the slick, hot, hard presence of Jared inside of him, pushing him harder and higher than he’s ever been.  He feels strung out and wound tight all at the same time, and he somehow knows that he’s going to come without Jared getting a hand on him. 

 

It’s unreal, knowing that, but when Jared leans forward and whispers for him to come, Jensen can’t help it, couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, and he comes with a shout, body clenching tight around Jared with every pulse as he spends into the sheets.  He’s still shuddering as Jared continues his assault on his prostate, milking him for all he’s worth, and then Jared’s coming too with a long, low moan, jerking against Jensen as he fills him up. 

 

“So,” Jared murmurs against his skin as they lay together afterward.  “Was that what you had in mind?”

 

“No,” Jensen answers sleepily as he throws a leg over Jared’s.  “So much better.”

 

The last thing Jensen knows before he slips into a deep, restful sleep is Jared’s light laughter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen hisses and tries to jerk away when Chris grabs his arm, fingers zeroing in on the bruises shaped like Jared’s hand curled around his bicep.

 

“What?” Chris snaps, eyes widening and face going from pissy to worried in less than a second. 

 

“It’s nothing,” Jensen insists.  He’s so not talking about this right now.

 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Chris says, gripping Jensen’s arm again, determined as Jensen can’t hide the flash of pain at Chris’s action.  “Is he hurting you?  I swear to god I’ll kill him if he is.”

 

“He’s not hurting me,” Jensen defends Jared.

 

“Then what’s this all about?” Chris demands.

 

“I asked him to.”

 

“You asked him to hurt you,” Chris says, deadpans.

 

“I told him to hold me down,” Jensen blushes.  “And then I fought him.”

 

“And why on god’s green earth would you do that?” Chris asks.

 

“We were trying something out,” Jensen shrugs, dancing around the question.

 

“And?”

 

“And…” Jensen pauses, glancing around to see where everyone is.  “I wanted to role play a little.  I asked him to be a SEAL on a mission, take me prisoner, and fuck the answers out of me.”

 

“You’re really fucked in the head these days,” Chris grimaces.

 

Oh yeah, Jensen knows he is.               

 

“It was really hot,” Jensen shrugs.  “What can I say?  I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

 

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough,” Chris says.  “You can keep that kinky shit to yourself from now on, and tell Padalecki no marking you up.  We can’t have you limping in to address Congress and we certainly can’t have you show up on MSNBC with a gigantic hickey,” he rolls his eyes at the look Jensen gives him.  “Don’t give me that.  I’ve seen _those_.  I do have eyes, Jensen.  You’re just one love bite away from reading about your sordid love life in US Weekly,” he warns.  “I can just see the headlines _._ ”

 

“You can shut up any time now,” Jensen rolls his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen’s neck deep in daily briefings that Genevieve keeps piling on top of his desk without mercy.  He can feel a killer headache creeping up on him and his back is starting to hurt from being bent over his desk for most of the morning and afternoon.  Then his stomach clenches with hunger.  Add that to the list.

 

There’s a knock at the door and part of him is irritated at the interruption, but if he’s being honest, he’s been reading the same two sentences for the last fifteen minutes, and just maybe it’s time for a break.  He just hopes it’s not Genevieve with more files.

 

“Come in,” he says, glancing up as the door swings open smooth and quiet.  As a head with unkempt dark hair and wild blue eyes pops in through the opening, Jensen stares in near startled confusion.  “Misha!” he proclaims in surprise.

 

“Mr. President,” Misha grins, stepping in all the way and shutting the door behind himself.

 

“Stop that,” Jensen grumbles.  “We’ve been friends too long for that crap and you know it.”  Misha also knows with alarmingly intimate detail how uncomfortable it can make him, the little prick.  “What can I do for you?” he asks.

 

“I am in need of a favor,” Misha says as he perches himself on one of the chairs in front of Jensen’s desk.

 

“And you came directly to me?” Jensen asks, raising an eyebrow.  Although they are friends, it’s unusual for Misha to _not_ deploy one or more of his minions to do his bidding.  Normally, they both communicate through their staffers and Misha always manages to turn it into a circus.  For Misha to cut out all of the middle men, it could only mean that he either doesn’t want anyone to know what he needs or there’s a damn good chance that if anyone _other_ than Misha were to ask, he’d say _no_.  The prospect of either makes his stomach turn.

 

“It is of a somewhat delicate nature,” Misha says.  “I am in need of one of your snipers.”

 

“One of my—Abel said he’d never do that again,” Jensen reminds him.  Jake was quite adamant about never being left alone with Misha after the last time.

 

“You have another,” Misha points out.  “I’ve worked it all out.  I require him on a day when you are not set to leave the grounds, and I’d only be borrowing him for a few hours at most.  Just long enough to give a commencement speech, shake a few hands, and then come back.”

 

“You want Jared,” Jensen states flatly.  The idea of Jared being away from him makes him nauseous, and not because Jared wouldn’t be there to protect him, but because something could happen to Jared while he’s away, and then… Jesus, he’s got it bad. 

 

“If Abel would change his mind, then I would take him, but your personal bullet shield is my only remaining option,” Misha says indelicately and Jensen is quite convinced he turns grey at Misha’s words. 

 

“He’s not my bullet shield,” Jensen corrects him with a choked gasp and Misha grins.

 

“Staffers talk,” Misha starts.  “Yours and mine trade all kinds of gossip.  There are so many rumors flying around it’s hard to know what’s true.”

 

And he’s just given himself away.

 

“Why do you need a sniper, Mish?” Jensen asks, voice rough.  “You’ve never had any problems before.”

 

“Well, your little fan club is branching out,” Misha sighs.  “It appears as though I’ve received some threats with alarmingly bad grammar.  I’m tempted not to take them too seriously when they can’t tell the difference between _your_ and _you are_ , but your death threat goons in the Service believe otherwise.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Misha,” Jensen slumps in his chair.  He’s dragging everyone down with him.

 

“Not your fault,” Misha waives him off.  “I’m quite certain we’re not the first in these offices to be threatened, and I’m certain we won’t be the last.  Besides, I didn’t take this job because I thought it would be easy.  I took it to watch your back, and some other stuff.  Like helicopter rides.”

 

“You would,” Jensen snorts. 

 

“Also, with things being as they are, it might do you both some good to be apart for a little bit,” Misha says.  “I promise he’ll come back in one piece.”

 

“Don’t promise me that unless you’re willing to step in front of a bullet for him yourself,” Jensen says fiercely.

 

“You know me well enough to know that I would,” Misha returns, holding Jensen’s gaze. 

 

“Okay,” Jensen finally agrees.  “But if you try to poach him, I’ll have the CIA sic a predator drone on you.”

 

“Understood,” Misha grins again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

All day long, Jensen’s a mess.  He’s been snappy to all of his staffers and he’s been nervous, anxious about Jared being out, being away.  He knew it would have to happen sometime.  Jared would have to go back home to San Antonio to see his family, or he’d get sick and venture back to his apartment somewhere in D.C., but Jensen’s grown so used to Jared being there, taking up space in his life, in his room, everywhere, that he feels lost.

 

But Jared said he’d text when they got back, and Jensen clings to that like a life raft.  He’s had his phone in his hand all day, constantly checking it to make sure he hasn’t missed a single message, and all that’s happened so far is he’s offended two senators and pissed Chris off with his inattentiveness. 

 

The moment his phone vibrates, he nearly drops it.  He fumbles with the screen a couple of times before he gets it unlocked and immediately goes to his messages. 

 

_We’re back_ , Jared texts, and Jensen lets out a breath and a whole lot of the tension he’s been holding all day.

 

He sinks back into his chair and texts back, letting Jared know he got the message.  He’d say more, but he’s afraid he’d come off like some sappy girl and he and Jared aren’t like that.  At least, Jensen doesn’t think they are and he’s not about to find out.

 

It takes him less than a minute before he’s up, springing into action and all but running to the armory where Jared’ll be.  He’s not stealthy about it by any means, but the few people he passes in the hallways give him brief, odd looks and pay him no mind otherwise.  

 

In what he can only suspect is record time, he’s standing outside of the Service armory, staring at the door that separates him and Jared.  He reaches forward with a slightly nervous hand and turns the handle, peeking in and seeing Jared rummaging through a locker and seemingly by himself.  Jensen slips in quickly and lets the door shut behind him, the sound of it catching Jared’s attention.

 

“Hey,” Jared says, swinging his gaze toward Jensen and then back to the locker where he puts something up that Jensen can’t see.

 

“Hey,” Jensen returns.  “We’re alone, right?”

 

“As far as I know,” Jared nods.  “Why?”

 

“I have a confession,” Jensen states, flipping the lock on the door. 

 

Instantly, Jared’s standing straight and facing him, all of his attention riveted to Jensen as he makes his way over to Jared.  “I’m listening.”

 

“I didn’t want you to go,” Jensen says.  “I knew I could spare you, but I didn’t want to share you with Misha.”

 

“If it’s any consolation, I got to hold a really big gun,” Jared says with a roguish smile.

 

“How big?” Jensen asks, his imagination running clean away with him as it dreams up images of Jared, clad in body armor with his aviators on and an enormous rifle in his hands.  He shudders at the thought.

 

“Bigger than Abel’s,” Jared says. 

 

“That’s… I have no idea what it says about me, but that’s really hot,” Jensen admits.  “ _You’re_ really hot.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jared asks, stalking up to Jensen.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen nods, eyes falling to Jared’s chest, watching it move under the bulletproof vest.  Oh god, there’s something really, _really_ ridiculously hot about that.

 

“Want me to fuck you, Jensen?” Jared asks, backing him into the lockers and bracketing him with his strong, muscled arms.  “Want me to fuck you in the locker room in my body armor?”

 

“Absolutely,” is Jensen’s response.

 

Jared closes the distance between them and takes Jensen’s mouth in a hot kiss, pressing in close and licking into Jensen’s mouth.  Jensen puts his hands on Jared, wanting to feel him as he kisses back, but Jared’s body armor gets in the way.  But there’s no way in hell he’s telling Jared to take it off.

 

Jared’s hands are on Jensen then, sliding over his arms, one settling on his hip while he pulls Jensen’s leg up with the other, holding him open as Jared rocks into him.  Jensen moans at the feeling of the bulge in Jared’s pants pressing in, grinding against his own.  It’s not enough.  He wants too much.

 

“I need you, Jared,” Jensen gasps, clinging to Jared’s vest with one hand while the other slips up to tangle in Jared’s hair, the coiled transparent cord of his earpiece woven through his fingers as the end dangles loosely. 

 

“You’re _really_ getting off on this,” Jared says like he’s surprised.  He really shouldn’t be.  Jensen is so sensitized to Jared he gets off with a touch these days.  And Jared in bulletproof armor, looking like a badass modern warrior is a fantasy he never knew he had come to life.

 

When Jared’s hands move to the fly of Jensen’s slacks, he sucks in a deep breath and returns the favor, trying to get access to Jared’s cock as quickly as possible.  Jared pulls him out at the same time that Jensen gets his grip around Jared’s dick, and they both shudder and gasp into each other’s mouths, jerking each other slowly. 

 

Jared growls and bats Jensen’s hand away seconds later, pushing in closer and wrapping his huge hand around both of them at the same time and it’s got to be one of the hottest moments of Jensen’s life. 

 

Jensen clings to Jared harder, riding into his hand and tossing his head into the lockers, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of Jared’s rough hand on one side of his dick and his silky, smooth cock on the other. 

 

“God, Jared,” Jensen groans as Jared leans into him, hot mouth going to Jensen’s throat as his hair brushes over Jensen’s cheek. 

 

Jensen can hardly think, and he knows he’d collapse to the floor if Jared let go of him.  Everything feels so good, _too_ good, and his grips Jared harder, sliding a hand up into his hair where he twists, earning a nip against his skin as Jared gasps and moans against the sting. 

 

He thinks this should be more awkward, that there should be more fumbling and less finesse, but in a matter of a handful of strokes, Jared has Jensen coming into his hand, his come slicking the way for Jared to jack them both faster, and within seconds of Jensen, Jared finds his release as well, dick pulsing and spilling over, making a bigger mess of things.

 

Jared works them both through their orgasms, pulling and stroking until Jensen can’t take anymore and then he’s kissing Jensen, his mouth soft and gentle.  Jensen doesn’t know what to make of it, especially after having quick and dirty sex in the armory.  That doesn’t mean he’s not into it.  By any means, he’s all for Jared’s tongue in his mouth.  He could do this all day, this lazy making out.  But it feels like more, like what he really wants, and affection for the ex-SEAL burns its way through his chest. 

 

He’s in deep with Jared, very deep, and he knows there’ll be no digging his way out.  As he cards his fingers through Jared’s hair, stroking his scalp and kissing him back with everything he has, he knows he’s done for.  If he hadn’t known before, he definitely knows it now.  He wants Jared.  He wants everything with Jared.  But he’s afraid.  He’s afraid for his family and his life, and now he’s afraid more than ever for Jared’s life.  Because he knows deep down that if he lost Jared, he’d lose himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, there’s too much speculation around Jensen’s newest failed outing for it to be left alone.  He’s not a stranger to press conferences and Q and As, but when he asked his team if he could pitch it to his press correspondents, both Speight and Benedict flat out refused. 

 

It’s a necessary evil, Jensen knows.  And it’s not that he doesn’t like them.  They’re just tedious and take up so much time.  And then there’s the added headache that comes with some of the more ridiculous questions he gets asked, like if it’s true his favorite color is red, or if he can confirm or deny the rumor that he eats spaghetti with his feet.  Not that they ever ask questions _that_ silly, it just seems that way after a while. 

 

But his Service, they’re another story.  Jeff likes him out in front of the cameras, showing solidarity and some other shit, but Chris is another story.  If Chris had his way, he’d keep Jensen under lock and key, probably ten stories underground, and if he had to surface he’d be armored up like a tank.  Chris has been fighting this thing for days, and the more he argues against the conference, the more Jensen feels motivated to go through with it.  He’s sure that wasn’t the effect Chris was going for, but Benedict and Speight sure are pleased, and Jared, well, he’s right behind Jensen, backing him up every step of the way.

 

“I don’t feel good about this,” Chris protests, pacing around the green room while Steve and Jared stand still, eyes tracking the agitated man.

 

“It’s fine,” Jensen insists, rolling his eyes.  “Jared?”

 

“Perimeter checks came back clean,” Jared says. 

 

“People have gotten by us before,” Chris points out.  “Do you really think him giving some piddly little speech is worth the risk?” he demands, turning on Jared.

 

“I think it’s up to him,” Jared answers.  “Doesn’t mean I’m not concerned, but I’m not here to tell him what to do.”

 

“And if there’s some lunatic with a gun?”

 

“I’ll make sure I take the bullet,” is Jared’s calm response.

 

It has two immediate effects: Chris stops arguing, and Jensen fights harder.

 

“Like hell you will,” Jensen pales at his words, blood running cold.

 

“It’s my _job_ ,” Jared levels his eyes at Jensen.  “I’d be happy to protect you like that if it meant you’d be safe.”

 

“I don’t care,” Jensen shakes his head, trying to cast out unbidden images of Jared bleeding out on the floor, slipping away from him.

 

“Jen--” Chris starts.

 

“No one is getting shot,” he cuts Chris off.  “Jesus Christ, you people are fatalistic.”

 

“We have to think about the worst case scenario,” Steve says.  “But as for today, I think you’ll be fine.  Go make your statement.  We’ve got your back.”

 

There’s so much Jensen wants to say, right on the tip of his tongue, and all for Jared, but he can’t.  Not here.  Not now.  He meets Jared’s eyes from across the room and has to accept the small smile from the other man and call it good enough for now.

 

His spokesperson, Benedict, knocks on the door a moment later and they exit the room, Jared at his side and Chris and Steve trailing behind.  They stop behind the curtains and wait for Benedict to announce him to the press gathered before the podium, but Jensen keeps glancing toward Jared, standing still as a statue as his sharp eyes survey the area.  Jensen’s surprised a few seconds later when Jared’s fingers brush his, giving him a reassuring, if brief, squeeze, the corner of his lips twitching upward the only indication that he’s paying any attention to Jensen.

 

There’s polite applause then, jolting Jensen and taking his focus off of the man next to him as Benedict comes backstage and gives Jensen his cue to take the podium.  As he walks up to the dais, he’s surprised at how many people have showed up.  He’s been in politics for longer than he can remember, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the media salivating and hanging off of his every word.  It just perplexes him.

 

“Thanks for coming here this afternoon,” he greets them informally.  “As you all know, there have been numerous attempts made on my life in recent months.  We have made several arrests of dangerous individuals who have been mostly acting alone, but there are others who were not and we are working diligently to put an end to this threat.  Regardless, I feel that the American people should know that this office… _I_ will not be bullied,” he says, shaking a little from the rush of adrenaline in his system.  He’s angry, so angry, but he needs to keep it under control.  Now is not the time or place to let it all out. 

 

“I will not cower or hide.  This country is great, and as such, it is only as great as its weakest point, and I will not be weak.  I will not take this laying down, I will not back off, and I will not allow fear to govern my actions and my life,” he braces himself on the podium and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself back down.  This thing is starting to get away from him.  He can see it in every journalist’s face and hear it in the quiet of the room.  He knows this’ll be all over Stewart and Colbert by tomorrow evening and within minutes his opponents are going to be having a field day at his expense.

 

“I will not allow an outside influence dictate how I serve my people.  I will continue to uphold my oath to the Constitution and to the American people, no matter how dark, no matter how difficult,” he says, sounding much more in control than he feels.  It’s a miracle he’s in control at all.  “I thank you all, everyone, for your faith in me and for your continued support.  I hope I have earned it and deserve it and continue to do right by you,” he finishes with a quick glance to Jared, hanging in the dark curtains just a few feet from him. 

 

They exchange a heavy look, Jared’s is pride and understanding where Jensen’s is raw need to be away and alone with Jared.  He gives Jensen a nod and glances out to the crowd, still and waiting with bated breath for Jensen’s next utterance.  But he’s done.

 

“Questions?” he sighs, peering out into the glare of lights and attentive faces.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jared snatches Jensen away and into a dark, secluded corner the second he comes off the stage, and Jensen’s so grateful.  He’s barely holding together, and now Jared’s arms are the only thing keeping him from falling completely apart.  He relaxes into Jared’s strong hold, leaning against him and burying his face into the warm material of Jared’s suit.  He smells so good, too, a muted afterimage of how he smelled hot and sweaty and groaning while he moved with Jensen, over him, inside him.  It’s comforting, safe, the safest place he can be, both physically and emotionally. 

 

“You okay?” Jared asks after a moment or two, still holding Jensen close, his voice a deep vibration in his chest.

 

“Yeah, I am now,” Jensen answers quietly.  “I kind of lost control out there.”

 

“No, you were great,” Jared counters.  “Very accessible and relatable.  I think you’ll find people will be more supportive of you than you think.”

 

“Even when they can see me bleeding through the cracks?” Jensen asks.

 

“You’re not bleeding through any cracks,” Jared chuckles softly.  “You’re in pain.  You’ve endured a lot of loss and trauma and you’ve stayed strong.  That’s what the average person will see.”

 

“That’s not how it’ll be on the six o’clock news,” Jensen huffs.

 

“Fuck ‘em,” Jared says very matter-of-factly.  “You have every right on the planet to be a kicking, screaming disaster, but you’re not.  You’ve persevered.  You’re a survivor.  They can say what they want, but they can’t take that away.”

 

There’s a moment of silence between them, Jensen contemplating Jared’s words, full of conviction, while Jared continues to calm him and center him with his steady presence.

 

“You’re the strongest person I know, Jen,” Jared whispers to him.  “And that includes every Marine, Green Beret, Ranger, Delta, and SEAL I’ve ever met and will probably ever meet.  You’re amazing, and if there’s anyone out there who can’t see that, then they’re a disgrace to this species.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The UN summit is finally upon them. 

 

It’s one of Jensen’s favorite things about being President.  He gets to rub elbows and shoot the shit with foreign heads of state that otherwise pay each other no mind, and he gets to meet some really interesting people as well. 

 

It also doesn’t hurt that he likes getting out of D.C. and seeing a tiny bit of New York.  It’s a different scene, a change of pace, and a welcome one at that. 

 

When they touch down, they’re escorted immediately to Headquarters, a swarm of black Service cars making up his motorcade and delivering him and his team safely to their destination.  The entire way, Jared’s smiling at him, watching him as he stares out the window in barely contained fascination.  Yes, he knows he’s going to basically be in meeting lockdown the minute he gets there until they dismiss, but seeing the city go by outside of his window never gets old.

 

Once they’re there and safely inside, Jared takes his post just slightly behind Jensen, and Chris organizes the rest of the team to scout the place, triple and quadruple checking the work the other members of the Service spent months preparing for.  One glance to Jared tells Jensen all he needs to know.  Jared is on guard, but not in threat mode.  So far he’s seen nothing that would warrant action, and it helps Jensen relax some. 

 

He greets the Prime Minister of England and the French President before he’s hijacked by the Canadian Prime Minister who shows him around with a veritable list of who’s who at the UN.  Jensen likes his Canadian counterpart, even if he takes liberties with his personal space that Jensen could do without.  He’s a nice guy and he really seems to know everyone, so Jensen keeps close and listens well while Jared watches him with amusement. 

 

The meeting is as dull as Jensen had expected.  There’s only so long he can listen to the translator in the headphones while the speechgiver speaks in their native tongue before his brain gives out.  His UN delegate is faring much better, but she’s been at this for a while, and she attends all of the other meetings, so she’s bound to have come up with some coping mechanisms by now.  He’s got to ask her about them later so he’ll be better prepared for tomorrow.

 

They recess around five in the evening, and Jensen’s grateful for it.  All he can think about is getting to the hotel, popping some Advil, and getting comfortable with Jared.  A glance to the man in question tells Jensen Jared’s thinking the same thing. 

 

“We’re coming out,” Jared announces to the team as he escorts Jensen through the building, staying close while he says his goodbyes and promises to meet with more Heads of State than he can remember. 

 

“Wait here,” Jared instructs as they approach the entrance where their car will be waiting. 

 

There are people milling about, some outside the doors, others in the lobby, all of them waiting for their turn to leave.  Jensen spots their car before Jared does and they move closer to the door.  Jared insists on going first, and Jensen allows it, even though he rolls his eyes.  This is the UN meeting.  Security here is tighter than anywhere else.

 

“All right,” Jared says, waving Jensen through. 

 

Jensen steps through the doors and follows Jared a few feet before he nearly plows into Jared where he’s stopped cold.

 

“Don’t move,” Jared orders, drawing his gun from his jacket.  “Kane, there’s something wrong.”

 

There’re shots fired then, sudden and explosive, and Jensen and Jared are nowhere near the majority of the team.  The crowd becomes a mob in a matter of milliseconds, people shoving and pushing as they scramble away, separating Jared and Jensen further from the rest of his detail.  He hears Chris shouting not far from them and then the Service returns fire as Jensen feels Jared’s hard body next to him, his firm grip encircling his arm.

 

“Get behind me!” Jared shouts in the chaos that engulfs them, jerking Jensen behind him as he raises his Sig and sights the shooters. 

 

The crowd is in an uproar as gunfire sounds from somewhere down the street and comes closer.  Jared’s the only agent close to him and Jensen doesn’t want anyone to take a bullet for him.  He doesn’t want anyone to die because some psycho took a shot at him again.  He glances up and spots one of the shooters ahead, looking through the crowd.  They make brief eye contact and he raises his gun.

 

At Jared.

 

 

“No,” Jensen mutters, pushing in front of Jared, who takes his momentum and spins them again, body jerking into Jensen’s as the sound of another shot echoes through the street. 

 

Jensen’s reaction is immediate.  His military training and recent target practice kick in and he’s got Jared’s Sig in his hand as he holds Jared’s limp body close, aiming accurately and easily downing the gunman.  He’s got his aim fixed for the next one, getting off another shot before part of his entourage reaches them.  Chris tries to take Jared’s gun from him and gets a bloody nose in return, and Steve finally subdues him, getting Jensen to surrender Jared’s gun as agents form a protective barrier around them.  But they can’t get him to let go of Jared.

 

As soon as the circle is complete, Jensen sinks to his knees, arms still wrapped tight around Jared. 

 

“You’re all right.  You’re going to be all right,” Jensen mutters, pulling a bloody hand away from where he’s clutching Jared’s back.  He feels sick at the sight of that bright red liquid, Jared’s _life_ , all over him and puts it back, gripping him hard as if it could keep Jared’s blood inside of him.  “Please be all right.”

 

Jared’s head moves a little and he glances toward Jensen with glazed eyes.  It’s clear to Jensen, even without any medical training, that Jared’s on the verge of unconsciousness.  Jensen’s pretty sure there’s a chance he’s already there and that his eyes have yet to follow.  Jared gives a feeble cough then, and Jensen’s nearly sick again as froth and blood come up and a soft rattle sounds in Jared’s chest that’s just loud enough to get Chris’s attention.  Jensen doesn’t miss the look in those eyes made even bluer by the blood gushing from his nose as he looks at them over his shoulder.

 

“Shit,” Chris swears.  “Where are those _fucking_ paramedics?” he demands.

 

“Less than a minute out, sir,” someone answers him, and at the clench of Chris’s jaw, Jensen realizes Jared might not have that long.

 

Jensen doesn’t want to think about the cough and the blood coming from Jared’s mouth, especially if it made Chris this upset.  But he’s definitely relieved seconds later as he can hear sirens coming toward them.  He recognizes them as ambulance sirens and he tries to convince himself that this means Jared’s going to be okay, that he’s hung on this long has to mean something.  No matter what, though, he can’t shake the anxious twisting in his gut that makes him fear the worst.

 

When the ambulance stops near them with their flashing lights it all turns into a blur, a soundless, colorless blur.  Except for the red of Jared’s blood, leaking out of his body, all over his clothes and into a puddle on the cement.  It’s all Jensen can think about, that red puddle and how much of it can escape Jared before he dies.  And if he dies… Jensen can’t do it again.  He just can’t. 

 

The paramedics finally convince him to let go, one taking pity on him and offering him a spot in the ambulance that he doesn’t hesitate to take, Chris insisting on riding shotgun and the paramedics yielding quickly to his stern look.  They work on Jared the entire way there, radioing in messages and status reports that Jensen is beyond comprehending as blood leaks out of his back, soaking all of the gauze they use to try and stop it.  Jensen just watches them in horror.  Jared has to live.  He has to. 

 

When they get to the hospital, Jared is rushed into surgery and Jensen is ushered into a very private, very secure waiting area.  Chris is livid and Steve is understanding when he joins them, but both are vigilant, nonetheless.  Jensen feels a little bad about Chris’s nose, but Steve assures him that he’ll get over it.  Steve continues to talk, a little about how Misha’s freaking the staff out and how Jensen’s mother is blowing up the phone lines, and it helps center Jensen a little, even though he’s not talking back.  He knows he’s being a crap friend right now when they’re both being so amazing, especially Chris since Jensen broke his nose and he’s _still_ here, but they seem to understand and neither of them appear to be holding it against him. 

 

It’s almost midnight when a doctor appears to speak with them.  Jensen is the only one awake, the only one who couldn’t sleep, and he steps outside the room with the doctor, not at all surprised to see Justin hanging around the end of the hallway.

 

“He’s stable,” is the first thing out of the doctor’s mouth.  “It’s not normal practice to let anyone outside of immediate family know the details or condition of a patient, but as I understand it, we’re making a concession for you, Mr. President.”

 

“Thank you,” Jensen says with relief and gratitude.  “I’ve been going out of my mind.”

 

“So I understand,” the doctor gives him a tight smile.  “He’s going to be asleep for a while.  Probably a few days.  The bullet went into his back and stopped.  He had a partially collapsed lung that’s well on its way to re-inflating, and other than that, the bullet missed other vital organs by millimeters.  We’ve managed to remove it and repair the damage, but he’s not entirely out of the woods yet.  He’s got a long way to go and I can’t tell you how lucky he is.  With suitable rest and rehabilitation, he should make a full recovery.  But I can’t stress how important it is that he rest as much as possible.  He experienced a cardiac event while in surgery and if he’s stressed too much too soon, it could trigger another.”

 

“A cardiac event?” Jensen asks.

 

“His heart stopped while he was on the table, but we were able to get him back quite quickly.”

 

At the doctor’s cool and clinical words, Jensen feels all the blood drain from his limbs and he feels faint.  Jared’s heart stopped.  He almost lost him.  He’s vaguely aware of the doctor gripping his arms and saying something and then Steve is there, lifting him up and letting Jensen lean on him as the blood rushes back through his ears. 

 

“Are you all right, Mr. President?” the doctor asks. 

 

“Lookin’ a little pale there, son,” Chris says, sauntering out of the waiting room, face a colorful explosion of deep purple and black and Jensen feels sorry again. 

 

“I’ll be fine,” Jensen insists, turning his focus back to the doctor and still leaning on Steve for support.  He doesn’t quite trust his own legs yet.  “When can I see him?”

 

“He’s still in recovery,” the doctor says.  “But as soon as he’s in a room, I’ll send someone to come escort you up.  It shouldn’t be too much longer, but he’s going to be out for quite a while.  It might do you some good to get some rest before then.”

 

“I’ll rest when he wakes up,” Jensen says stubbornly.

 

“I thought so,” the doctor gives him a slight smile.  “He’s strong, Mr. President, a real fighter.  It’s clear that he has something to live for.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he’s finally allowed to see Jared, he can hardly recognize him with all of the equipment running into and out of Jared’s body.  And god, he did this, this job did this to him. 

 

“I thought he was stable,” Jensen says dumbly.  “What is all of this?” he waves to the tubing and the monitors.  “Why is this still here if he’s going to be fine?” he demands and somewhere in his head he knows it’s not fair to ask that, but it all comes back to Danneel and losing her, and he’s too afraid now to maintain his calm.

 

“Mr. President, I assure you we’re doing all we can,” the doctor says, clearly exasperated with him.  “While modern medicine hasn’t exactly caught up with _Star Trek_ , we’re certainly not functioning in the Dark Ages anymore either.”

 

“I… I know,” Jensen sighs.

 

“He’s in the best place he can be right now,” the doctor says.  “I know it can sometimes be a shock to see someone on so much machinery, but it’s only temporary so his body can heal faster.  The chest tube has already been removed and he’s come off of the ventilator.  We’ll see about waking him up in the following days.”

 

And the doctor is right.  It _is_ a shock to see Jared, his strong and healthy Jared, hooked up to so much equipment.  He feels guilty for Jared lying there helpless and injured, and wishes it was him instead and not for the first time.  The doctor leaves him alone with Jared as Chris and Steve move to the door, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down is the sense that he has to be strong for Jared now when he’s at his weakest.

 

Jensen settles into the chair next to Jared’s bed.  Chris and Steve are keeping vigil outside and there’s no less than a small army in and around the hospital.  Jensen doesn’t really know much of what’s going on outside Jared’s room, other than the media has been told that _someone_ has been shot, but the _who_ of it has remained under tight wraps.  Even Jared’s attending doctor admitted to being strong armed into a non-disclosure agreement by intimidating men in suits with earpieces and guns.

 

Jensen apologized to Chris last night for breaking his nose, to which Chris laughed and stated that he pretty much got what he deserved, trying to disarm an ex-Air Force officer in shoot-to-kill mode.  Jensen would say Chris is looking better, but he’d be lying.  The man kind of looks like he went a few rounds with a baseball bat, but Chris insists he’s had worse and that it looks much worse than it feels. 

 

But Jensen’s having a hard time focusing on the outside world right now.  None of it really matters when Jared’s laid up in a hospital bed with stitches and an IV and someone else’s blood in him, all because he thought Jensen’s life was worth more than his, that Jensen could live with him sacrificing himself.  And he’s very glad that his daughter is in Texas with his parents because if he’s being a horrible national leader at the moment, he doesn’t even want to think of what that says about his parenting skills, especially when he can drop all of his responsibilities so easily and keep watch at Jared’s side.

 

And Jared’s so pale, his once warm and glowing skin clammy and cool and there are dark circles under his eyes, smudged and deep like bruises.  He looks half dead and it terrifies Jensen that he technically was before the doctors finished patching him up.  He knows it’s a bit ridiculous, given that the doctors are all very optimistic about him making a full recovery, but Jensen’s paranoid that if he takes his eyes off Jared now, if he leaves his side, something bad will happen.  At least he’s breathing on his own now.  Jensen knows that’s a huge step in the right direction.

 

“Jared, you’re an idiot,” he says softly, watching the steady rise and fall of the heart monitor, a grounding piece of evidence that all is well inside Jared’s body.  “My life doesn’t matter more than yours.  It doesn’t mean _anything_ without you.”

 

There’s no response.  Not that he was really expecting one.  But it would have been nice.  Dramatic, but nice.  Instead, he drags his chair closer to the bed and lays his head down on the uncomfortable mattress, placing his hand over Jared’s and pulling it close.  Underneath the strong clinical smell of the hospital, he can pick out the faint scent that is Jared, that reminds him of what Jared smelled like, what he _felt_ like when they were skin to skin, when they finally gave in to this thing between them.  In that moment, Jensen misses him more than anything, more than home, more than Danneel.  But mostly, he just wishes Jared was awake and with him.

 

He presses his nose into Jared’s wrist and brushes his lips against his skin.  “I love you,” Jensen whispers into Jared’s hand, finally allowing sleep to pull him under.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jensen jerks awake to a hand on his shoulder.  It’s Steve and he’s very grateful to have his understanding eyes glancing over him rather than Chris and his _looks_.  Chris can fuck right off.  Jensen doesn’t give a damn about his political career as long as Jared just wakes up.  He’d give it all up just to know that he’s going to be all right, to hear it from Jared himself.  And if he’s not… well, there’s no good thinking about that.  Nothing good will happen if Jared doesn’t make it, Jensen’s certain.

 

“He’ll be okay,” Steve says quietly.

 

“Can’t be sure,” Jensen replies and Steve knows where the insecurity comes from.  “Not until he’s awake.”

 

“He’s going to be out for at least another day, Jensen,” Steve reminds him.  “They’ll start bringing him around tomorrow if he hasn’t spiked a fever or shown signs of infection.”

 

“I know,” Jensen sighs, and he does know, but all he can think about is how Danneel laid in a hospital bed and never woke up and it fills his veins with ice to think that he might never see those dimples again or hear that beautiful laugh.  “What are you doing here?” he asks.

 

“Other than guarding both your asses?” Steve smiles softly.  “Jared’s family is here, and I know you’re kind of important and all, but I’m a little more scared of his mother than I am you.”

 

Jensen tries to give Steve a smile for his attempt at lightening the mood as he sits back in his chair, his back popping and protesting the position he’d been sleeping in.  He hadn’t really considered it before, but of course Jared’s family would make an appearance.  Contacting Jared’s parents was probably one of the first things Steve did when they got to the hospital.

 

“And no offense, but you could use a shower and a change of clothes,” Steve adds.

 

Jensen looks at himself for what feels like the first time in days.  He’s still in the same clothes he climbed into the ambulance in and… oh, god, he’s got Jared’s dried blood all over him.  He feels faint, the sight of all that reddish brown makes him feel sick and light headed, and he’s sure he’d be throwing up by now if he’d actually eaten anything in the last day or so.  However long he’s been here.

 

He starts pulling at his shirt, frantically trying to get away from all the blood.  He has to get away from it, he needs to get it off of him, and Steve’s warm hands calmly stopping his movements are the only things keeping him from doing permanent damage to himself and the clothing.

 

“It’ll be okay, Jen,” Steve assures him.  “I got you a few changes of clothes in a bag and the nurses were more than happy to let you shower in the overnight room,” he says, holding out a small duffle.  “You’ll want to at least change shirts before you leave this room.  I don’t think Jared’s family needs to see any evidence of what happened.  The way you both look is bad enough alone.”

 

“Thanks,” Jensen mutters, taking the bag and fishing out a clean button down.

 

He feels sick again, having taken off his blood soaked shirt, and he’s grateful of Steve again when he snatches the garment up and puts it in a plastic sack, hiding from sight.

 

“Getting out of this room will do you some good,” Steve says, ushering him to the door.  “And just so you’re warned, his mother, Sherri, is outside the door and she’s a little…” Steve makes a gesture and a face and Jensen gets it because that’s exactly how he feels.

 

Jensen steels himself and exits the room, Steve close behind.  Jared’s mother is hovering just barely three feet from Chris, who is as still as a statue.  Her hair is a bit wild and her eyes are red and Jensen’s painfully aware of her interest in his presence.  He’s never met the woman, never even spoken to her, and he has no idea what Jared’s told her, so he approaches her with caution, watching as her expression shifts from frantic worry to determinedly holding herself together.

 

“Mrs. Padalecki,” Jensen greets her, holding out a hand that she takes shakily.

 

“Mr. President,” she returns.  “How—how is he?”

 

“The doctors tell me he’s recovering a lot faster than they were expecting,” Jensen says more calmly than he feels.  “I have the best doctors I could find attending him,” he assures her.

 

“Thank you,” she says, swiping at a tear that leaks out.

 

Jensen gives her a tight smile and continues.  “I apologize that they’re only allowing one visitor in at a time,” he says.  “It’s normally two, but my presence requires a change in security, especially with recent events.”

 

“No, don’t apologize,” she gives him a watery smile.  “I wouldn’t want anyone else with him.”

 

“Ma’am?” he asks, unsure of her meaning.

 

“Jared is hard to shut up when he’s happy,” she says.  “He talks about you all the time, and I know my son, Mr. President.  You make him happy.”

 

Jensen blushes and looks to Steve who just shrugs back at him. 

 

“I’m sorry to have to just say hello and then run, but I’ve got to leave for a bit,” Jensen explains to her.  “I’ve been ordered to shower, but I’ll only be down the hall.  If anything happens or if you need something, just let Chris know.  And don’t worry about him, he looks meaner than he is.”

 

“Thank you again, Mr. President,” she says.

 

“Jensen, ma’am,” he tells her.  “You can call me Jensen.”

 

She gives him a nod and another tight smile and goes into the room.  It takes all of Jensen’s will power and some of Steve’s to move, and one look to his friend has Steve escorting him down the hall to the overnight room.  Jensen drops his bag in an armchair as Steve shuts them in, and then pulls out a change of clothes, heading into the too clean bathroom.

 

He notices his pants are stiff in places and dried blood flakes off as he drops them to the floor.  It’s more evidence of something that never should have happened, and Jensen wonders briefly how much blood a man can lose before it’s considered too much.  He shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts and showers quickly and methodically before reemerging, feeling at least physically better.

 

He holds his pants out to Steve, who puts them in the same sack where he’s stashed Jensen’s ruined shirt and then heads to the door, presumably to pass it off to the FBI or the NSA, or whoever has claimed jurisdiction.

 

“Sit,” Steve commands, pointing at the couch and the simple spread of hospital food on the table in front of it that Steve must have had brought up when he was in the shower.

 

“Not hungry,” Jensen argues.

 

“Eat anyway,” Steve says, maneuvering him to the couch and forcing him down.  “Jared’s other family members are taking their turns right now, so you can’t go back anyway.  So eat, sleep, stare at the wall, whatever, but you’re going to stay here and respect the fact that they have just as much right to him as you.”

 

“You sound like Chris,” is Jensen’s only response as he passes over everything for a small bowl of applesauce, the only thing he thinks he might be able to keep down.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Steve laughs.

 

“I must look worse than I thought if you’re barking orders at me,” Jensen comments, forcing the applesauce down.

 

“Nah,” Steve says.  “But you won’t be winning any beauty contests any time soon.”

 

Steve sighs when Jensen looks back to the door, staring a hole in it.  Maybe if he looks at it hard enough, the space between them will disappear. 

 

“A couple of hours aren’t going to make a difference at this stage,” Steve says.  “He’ll be okay.”

 

“A couple of hours mattered with Danneel.”

 

“He’s not Danneel,” Steve points out.  “And he was shot.  She had an aneurysm.  They’re not the same, Jen, not even close, and you know that.”

 

“And you know that all I can see is someone I love laying unconscious in a hospital bed while I have to sit and wait for something to happen,” he argues and they both know he means _wait for someone to die_.  Because that’s how it was two years ago, and Jensen’ll never get that out of his head.  He lets out a frustrated growl and tosses the bowl of half-eaten applesauce back onto the table, dropping his head into his hands.  “I feel so helpless.”

 

“I’m sorry, man,” Steve says, sitting down next to him.  “But you know that just you being here is getting him the best treatment on the planet.  Well, that and the fact that he took a bullet for the President of the United States.  That kind of heroism does all kinds of helpful things for a guy.”

 

“I know,” Jensen grumbles, not even wanting to argue that all the help in the world couldn’t save Danneel.  They did everything they could and she fucking died anyway.  “But it should have been me, Steve. _I’m_ the one who stepped in front of the shooter.  I was trying to protect Jared, but he’s so fucking stubborn that he… it happened so fast, but it shouldn’t have been him.”

 

“It shouldn’t have been any of us,” Steve says.  “But I think Jared would disagree with you, any of us would.  We’d all gladly lay down our lives for yours.”

 

“I don’t want anyone dying for me,” Jensen mutters.

 

“You should have considered that before you ran for president,” Steve chuckles.  “And speaking of, I’ve been issued a direct order from Misha not to let you waste away.  He says the staff and interns are no fun.  Turns out they aren’t as enthusiastic about being called minions and ordered to participate in a mandatory staff-wide scavenger hunt as he was expecting.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Jensen laughs for the first time in days.  “Jesus, he’s probably hiring a circus for the front lawn as we speak.”

 

“Well, you’re the one who picked him,” Steve chuckles back.  “But terrifying the employees aside, he’s doing a great job holding the fort for you,” he reports.

 

“And what about Evie?” Jensen asks.  “I’ve been an awful father.”

 

“You’ve been in shock, Jen,” Steve reminds him.  “No one blames you.  Your mom called a few times, mostly to make sure you weren’t the one who got shot.  That took me and Chris _and_ Misha to convince her.  She says Evie’s good, though.  She just misses you, but you should definitely call them to let them know you’re still breathing and that we aren’t a bunch of liars,” he says, pulling Jensen’s cell from his jacket and handing it over.

 

“Are you an amateur magician?” Jensen asks.  “You’re like freaking Mary Poppins or something.”

 

“I’m just prepared,” Steve laughs.

 

“Now I know what you and Chris get up to when I’m not around,” Jensen says, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Oh yes.  We sit around and make out contingency plans,” Steve rolls his eyes.  “Because keeping up with your dumb ass doesn’t keep up busy enough,” he drawls and then points to the phone.  “Call your mom.  Now.”

 

“Yes, father,” Jensen snarks back and Steve merely smiles.  Smug asshole.  Chris is definitely rubbing off on him.

 

Jensen scrolls through his contact list, finger hovering over his mom’s number for a second before he hits _send_ and stands up, pacing to the far side of the room to give himself at least the illusion of privacy.  It rings a few times and he’s kind of hoping it’ll go to voicemail, but then his mother picks up, gasping his name in relief and it makes him feel just a tiny bit better to hear her voice despite his reluctance at calling in the first place.

 

“Hey, Mom,” he returns quietly.

 

“It’s so good to hear your voice,” she says.  “They wouldn’t tell us anything, but you’re all right?”

 

“Yeah.  I’m in one piece,” he replies, voice tight.  _All right_ is pretty relative right now anyway.  “How’s everything?”

 

“Oh, you know.  Pretty normal,” she tells him.  “We’ve all been a bit worried, especially Evie, but Chris has been calling us with updates every few hours or so, letting us know what he can, _when_ he can,” she pauses, her voice becoming serious.  “It was a very brave thing that man did, risking himself for you.”

 

“It was,” Jensen agrees flatly.  He’d argue that it was stupid and not brave, but it’s no use.  Jared’s going to be a big damn hero in his mother’s eyes for all of eternity for having saved her baby boy.

 

“Jensen, are you really all right?” she asks in that motherly tone that suggests she’s caught on and knows something’s up, not that he’s been trying to hide it or anything, and it’s clear that no one has told her just who it was who was shot.

 

“No,” he sighs, answering her honestly.  “I’m not.”

 

“Baby, what is it?” she asks. 

 

“I can’t do this again, Mom,” he manages through his teeth, fighting to keep from breaking down.  “I’m not going to survive if…” he cuts himself off before he loses it completely.

 

“ _Jared_ ,” is the only sound his mother makes for a few seconds, and Jensen’s glad for it.  She gives him just enough time to pull himself together before she speaks again, voice understanding and full of sympathy.  “Oh, honey, you must be going crazy,” she says.  “But listen to me, Jensen.  That man is strong.  He’s a fighter, and I know in my heart that he will fight his way back to you.  So, take care of yourself and keep it together for him, because he’s going to need you now more than ever.  Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Jensen replies.  “And thanks, Mom.  I think I needed to hear that.”

 

“That’s what moms are for,” she quips, some of the cheer coming back into her voice.  “So, can you tell me how he’s doing?  Or do I need to sign something first?” she jokes, lightening the mood a bit.

 

“No, you don’t have to sign anything,” he laughs back softly.  “He’s stable for now.  They’ve taken him off the respirator, but they’re keeping him sedated until tomorrow to give his body a head start on the healing process or something.  It’s just,” he stops, rubbing a hand over his face as tears prick his eyes again.  “It’s hard to see him like this, Mom.  I just don’t know what to do.”

 

“I know,” she says.  “But he sounds like he’s recovering well, and when they bring him around tomorrow, you can hear it from him that everything’s going to be okay,” she assures him.  “Now, take care of yourself and listen to Chris and Steve.  You’re stressing them out.”

 

“Yeah, I think Steve’s considering force feeding me,” Jensen says and tosses Steve a glance, which is met with a smile of agreement.  “He already forced me to shower and change my clothes.”

 

“And call your mom,” Steve calls out.

 

“And call you,” Jensen amends over his mother’s quiet laugh.

 

“They’re good boys,” she compliments.  “Listen to them for me if not for yourself.  And I promise everything’ll be all right.  Now I know you’re anxious to get back to Jared, so I’ll let you go, but don’t let me worry for so long next time.”

 

“Sorry about that,” Jensen says.  “And I won’t, Mom, I promise.”

 

They say their goodbyes and Jensen hands his phone back to Steve, who looks at him expectantly, so he grabs what he thinks might be a turkey sandwich and forces it down.  He needs the food, Steve is definitely right about that, and he makes sure he eats it all, even though he’s not at all hungry.  It certainly won’t do anyone any good if he passes out from starvation.  And Jared would be pissed, besides.

 

“Can I go back now?” Jensen asks, having polished off the applesauce too.

 

“Nap,” Steve says, tossing a pillow and blanket his way.  “You can go back after visitng hours are up.”

 

Of course he can.  The hospital will likely kick Jared’s family out, but they’d never even think to ask him to leave.  Sometimes it’s good to be president.

 

“Fine,” he agrees, giving Steve a look that lets him know what he really thinks about taking a nap.

 

Regardless of his reluctance to sleep, Jensen finds himself drifting off within minutes of settling on the couch, and luckily, there are no dreams.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Rise and fuckin’ shine, darlin’!” Chris’s voice cuts through the haze of sleep over Jensen and he’s suddenly missing Steve’s quiet nature.

 

The first thing he notices is the sunlight streaming into the room.  He curses Steve in that moment for letting him sleep through the night and springs into action as fast as his sore and exhausted body will allow.

 

“Aw, don’t look at me like that,” Chris says when Jensen cuts him the dirtiest look he can muster.  “It’s still early, but we thought you’d want to be there when the doctors take him off the sedative.”

 

“They’re actually doing that today?” Jensen demands, pulling his shoes on and tossing his belongings into the duffle Steve brought. 

 

“Yep,” Chris answers.  “His mom’s already in there, but she wants to wait for you.  She must think you’re someone special,” he smirks and if Jensen had any attention to spare, he’d probably think about punching the smugness right off Chris’s face.

 

He manages a weak glare and mutters “let’s go,” instead before hurrying Chris out of the room and following him down the hall.  And they just can’t get there fast enough.  They’re going to wake Jared up today.  He’s going to be able to speak to him and look into those hazel eyes and hold him and everything.  He’s getting him back today.  Chris nods to Steve as they round the corner to Jared’s room and he steps aside, allowing Jensen through the door as Chris takes his place next to Steve.

 

Sherri stands when he enters and gives him a hopeful smile.  She looks like she’s been here all night, and it’s entirely likely that she has. 

 

“The doctor should be here any minute,” she informs him, sitting back down and watching him as he pulls a chair up and sits down next to her.  “Steve told me that last night was the first night you’ve slept since you got here.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m trying to be angry about it, but I really did need it,” Jensen says, trying to offer her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and it won’t until he has Jared back.

 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you look much better this morning,” she says.  “The few hours you got seems to have done some good for you.”

 

“Thanks,” he says.  “I feel better too.  And they’re both good friends, looking after me like that.  Especially since I tend to put up a fight and turn into a stubborn asshole when they start ordering me around.”

 

Sherri gives him a smile but doesn’t get the chance to say anything further as the doctor and a nurse are escorted in by Steve.

 

“How’s everyone?” the doctor asks, looking all of them over.  “I see you got some sleep,” he says to Jensen, seeming pleased at his brighter and cleaner appearance.  With vague responses from the two of them, the doctor continues on, “We’re going to go ahead and take him off the sedative and let him wake up on his own.  It may take a while, depending on how fast he metabolizes what’s left in his system,” he explains, instructing the nurse to detach the sedative drip as he monitors Jared’s vitals for a few moments. 

 

They wait in silence, the only sounds in the room are the rustle of fabric and paper, and the steady beep of the heart monitor. 

 

“Everything looks good,” the doctor reports finally, making a notation on Jared’s chart.  “We’ll keep him under tight observation until he’s fully alert and then we’ll go from there,” he says.  “If he wakes up without me or a nurse present, come get us immediately,” he instructs.  “And try to keep him calm.  The last thing he might remember is being in a gun fight.  It could take him a few seconds to process that he’s in a safe place, and the less he fights, the lower his chances will be for opening stitches or doing himself further harm.”

 

“Thank you, doctor,” Jensen says and Sherri nods her agreement, and then they’re alone again, both eagerly anticipating Jared waking up.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Around ten, Jared’s mom decides she’s apparently done with sitting and waiting for Jared to come around in silence, so she starts talking, sharing little snippets of Jared as she knows him.  It’s nice, hearing stories of Jared that only his mother could tell, and then she catches Jensen off guard.

 

“I voted for you, you know,” she says.

 

“You did?” Jensen asks dumbly.  It never ceases to surprise him when he hears that.  He knows it shouldn’t because he won both the popular vote and the electoral college by a pretty big margin, but he still doesn’t quite believe that this is his life. 

 

“All of us did,” Sherri confirms.  “Especially with Jared… not that he’s the only reason, mind you,” she says quickly.  “That other man was a worthless turd as far as I’m concerned.”

 

At that, Jensen barks out a surprised laugh and he realizes it’s the first time he’s laughed in days.  It’s a welcome feeling, even if it’s at his former opponent’s expense.

 

“Anyway,” Sherri continues casually.  “We liked everything about you, how honest and genuine you seemed, how adorable your daughter is, and that stunning, smart girl you married.  She was something,” Sherri says with no small amount of respect. 

 

“Yes, she was,” Jensen agrees softly.

 

“I’m very sorry for your loss, dear,” she says, reaching for him and placing a comforting hand over his.  “I don’t think there’s a soul out there who wasn’t saddened by what happened to you.”

 

“I—thank you,” Jensen says.  He knows that the country loved Danneel, probably more than they liked him, but sometimes it feels like she was the only thing shielding him from the crazies, and once she was gone, all bets were off.  But he does miss her, still.  And there are times when he wishes she was still here, to tell her things, to tell her about Jared.  He knows she’d approve.  He’s everything Danneel would have ever wanted for him after she died.  “It’s part of the reason I’m a little nuts right now,” he admits.  “I just…”

 

“I know,” Sherri says with a comforting smile.  “You know, I can remember the exact moment I knew my son was gay,” she says, deftly changing the subject, and he’s grateful for it.  “He had been dating the most adorable little thing.  Sandy, I think.  Anyway, one night he came home, pale as a sheet, said he broke it off with her and wouldn’t speak another word of it.  And then I caught the looks that he and Sandy’s brother gave each other when they were around.  Jared would blush and look away if the other boy caught him, and I know my son.  That blush could only mean one thing.”

 

“And you were okay with it?” Jensen asks. 

 

His own coming out was pretty rough.  Danneel had been the one to bring his family around.  He remembers her defending him to his parents and his brother, telling them that if they didn’t like it then they could get the fuck out.  And then when they’d started dating, they had to go through the whole mess again, explaining that his sexuality was more fluid than just one or the other.  Eventually everything calmed down.  Evelyn had a lot to do with that, and running for President, and then Danneel’s death, and there’s not a day that goes by that Jensen isn’t grateful for everything Danneel gave him.

 

“He’s my baby boy,” Sherri says, pulling Jensen back out of his thoughts.  “He could tell me he was in love with a yellow-striped alien from Neptune and I’d be happy and support him so long as that’s what makes _him_ happy.”

 

She takes a deep breath before she speaks again.

 

“I know neither of you are out and proud, at least not publicly, but I know love when I see it, and what you two have is deep, soul-deep love,” she states.  “Don’t let anyone else influence that, don’t let them take it away, and don’t let them define it.  You love who you love, and it’s no one’s fucking business but yours, pardon my French.”

 

Jensen stares at her coarse language, but her message has hit home.  And she’s right.  It’s something he’s been afraid of from the start, but as soon as they’re back in D.C., as soon as Jared’s well enough, things are going to change.  No more hiding in the shadows, no more fear of someone finding them out or senate hearings or impeachments.

 

He’s not ashamed, and life is too short to worry about what other people think anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a while, Jared coming around in stages—a twitch here, a sigh and a moan there, and then slowly his eyes slit open, bleary hazel glancing around the room lethargically, trying to focus on his surroundings.  Jensen sees the second Jared recognizes him, eyes widening and suddenly sharp.

 

“Easy,” Jensen says softly, rushing to his side and putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him down.  “We’re in the hospital.  You’re safe.”

 

Jared doesn’t fight him, but he’s tensed and rigid, like he’s ready to spring into action at any second, and he tries to rasp something out to Jensen, but his throat is too dry for his voice to work.  Even though, Jensen still catches the end of it and nods his head quickly.

 

“I’m safe,” he assures Jared.  “I’m safe.”

 

He chances a look at Sherri then, and Jared’s eyes slide over to her as he relaxes back against the bed, eyes clenching shut a second later and a grimace crossing his face.

 

“Does it hurt?” Sherri asks, reaching for Jared’s hand.

 

He nods and Jensen goes to the door, sending Chris after the doctor and pain meds, before going back to Jared’s side.  He’s sweating now, moisture beading around his temples, and his breath is coming out in hard little pants.  He’s definitely in pain and Jensen wishes the doctor would hurry up.

 

Moments later, the doctor arrives with the same nurse, who pushes a clear liquid into Jared’s IV that has him settling quickly, the tension leaving his body as it makes its way through his system.

 

“Better?” the doctor asks and Jared nods.

 

“Can he have some water?” Sherri asks.  “For his throat?”

 

“Yes,” the doctor allows.  “I bet you’d like that,” he smiles in Jared’s direction.

 

Jared nods again and lets Sherri lift the cup to his mouth, Jensen watching as he takes several short swallows from the straw, eyes closing like it’s the best thing he’s ever had to drink.  She pulls the cup away gently when he signals that he’s had enough, and then gives a weak cough in an attempt to clear his throat.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asks.

 

“Shot,” Jared croaks out, voice still rough and broken to Jensen’s ears, despite the water.

 

“That’s right, Mr. Padalecki,” the doctor says.  “You sustained a gunshot wound to the back and were rushed here where you went into emergency surgery to stop the bleeding and repair the damage.  We’ve kept you sedated to let you start healing on your own, and so far everything has been textbook.”

 

“How long?” Jared asks, half slurring his raspy words.

 

“This is day three,” the doctor answers and Jared makes a moderately surprised face.  “You’ve been doing well enough that we decided to bring out of sedation.  I’m feeling optimistic about your recovery, and a man with your physical condition will have very little trouble with rehabilitation.  But for right now, rest.  And we’ll see how things look tomorrow.”

 

The nurse takes over reporting Jared’s vitals in his chart after the doctor leaves and she gives his IV and drip bags a thorough check. 

 

“If the pain comes back or you need something, hit the call button and we’ll be right here,” she informs them on her way out, leaving the three of them alone.

 

And well, three’s a crowd, so Jensen stands, feeling like he should probably give Sherri some privacy with her son for a little while, but freezes when Jared’s hand reaches for him, eyes pleading and panicky.

 

“Stay,” he requests.  “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

 

And Jensen knows _exactly_ how he feels, so he sits, giving Sherri an apologetic look and is surprised to be met with her knowing and understanding smile.

 

“It’s okay, Jensen,” she says warmly.  “I don’t mind sharing him with you.”

 

“Mom,” Jared says, grabbing her attention and putting it back on himself.  “Everyone’s here?”

 

“Yeah, JT,” she says.  “The government flew us up in a private jet.”  Probably Steve’s idea.  Steve and his freaking contingency plans.  “Jensen’s got you quite the VIP set up.  You’ve got a private room right across from the nurses’ station in the nicest hospital in New York and probably all of the Secret Service patrolling the grounds.”

 

Jared laughs, which starts off delightful, warming Jensen to the core, but then it turns into a cough, which turns into a groan and a flash of pain over his face that has Jensen’s finger itching for the call button, anything to make it better for Jared, to make it go away.

 

“I’m fine,” Jared insists, reaching for Jensen’s hand instead.

 

Jensen indulges him, letting him get away with it this once, and wraps his hand around Jared’s larger hand, and he’s so relieved that it’s warm and dry and so goddamn _responsive_ that he could cry.  Again.  And then there are Jared’s eyes on him, those beautiful fox eyes following his every move.

 

“How are you holding up?” Jared asks.

 

“Better now,” Jensen smiles, really smiles for the first time in days, and when Jared smiles back, everything really is much better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jared is in and out for a while, leaving Jensen and Sherri alone to get to know each other a little better.  She seems to be holding up well, having been a SEAL-mom first probably prepared her a bit more for dealing with her youngest son being critically injured.  And she’s bearing Jensen’s nervous agitation well, distracting him with more stories about Jared’s childhood every time he thinks he’s close to losing it.

 

“It frightened me at first when Jared enlisted in the Navy,” Sherri says, telling him for the first time of her feelings of Jared’s prior career choice.  “I couldn’t imagine my sweet, kind baby going off to war and doing and seeing violent things.”

 

She looks over at Jared where he’s sound asleep and then glances back to Jensen before turning her gaze back to Jared.

 

“I think the thought of my Jared killing someone scared me more than the idea of him dying so far from home,” she admits.  “I didn’t want him to change, and then he tested and was accepted into the SEAL program,” she sighs.  “He got his degree in engineering, mind you.  I always thought he’d work on ship design or something technical like that, but the next thing I knew, he had all of these muscles and this grim look and he was always off to some country or another, doing things he wouldn’t tell us about.  He stopped talking about his career, which is not like Jared.  He’s always had this enthusiasm that he couldn’t keep to himself.  And he became so serious sometimes that I could hardly recognize the man my son had become. 

 

“I knew what having a SEAL in the family meant.  I was plenty briefed for that,” she says.  “And I know he’s seen some pretty horrific things and likely done some as well.  I have no illusions about what it is SEALs do, but you bring parts of him back that I haven’t seen since he went into training.  You bring out the bright, happy Jared I knew so well, and I can’t express to you how grateful I am that you’ve found each other.”

 

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Jensen admits, struck speechless.

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sherri smiles warmly at him.  “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t break his heart.”

 

“I’d rather die,” Jensen says, and his heart stutters in his chest as he realizes he means it with a ferocity he’s never felt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s late evening when Jeff pokes his head inside Jared’s room.  It takes Jensen by surprise that this is the first he’s seen or heard of Jeff since the shoot out.  He looks to be all right, though, and just as sleep deprived as the rest of them.  He glances around the room, hazel eyes looking upon Jared with a mixture of sadness and affection, and Jensen knows he’s having just as hard a time figuring out how to deal with this as the rest of them.

 

“Need me?” Jensen asks, having a feeling that Jeff wouldn’t have sought him out if he didn’t need to discuss something.

 

“Just for a few minutes,” Jeff assures him, widening the door and stepping aside in expectation.

 

“If anything happens, have someone come get me,” he asks of Sherri who nods and gives him a smile.

 

Jensen exchanges looks with Chris as he follows Jeff through the hospital to one of the conference rooms where Misha and Genevieve are waiting. 

 

“Jensen!” Genevieve gasps, pushing away from the table and wrapping him in her arms.  “I’m so glad to see you’re all right.”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assures her, hugging her back.  She’s always been such a good friend.  “So, how’s everything going?” he ventures to ask as she finally lets him go.

 

“It’s completely chaotic,” Misha answers bluntly and Genevieve cringes.  So, _not_ an overstatement.

 

“Jeff?” Jensen asks, turning his gaze to the older man.

 

“D.C.’s on lockdown.  We’ve got blockades set up and we’ve beefed up the guard around the White House,” Jeff informs him.  “With things the way they are, we don’t want anyone knowing your whereabouts right now, so late Saturday night, we put Brock in Marine One and flew him to Camp David.  As far as we know, everyone thought it was you.”

 

“That’s what we’ve told the press,” Genevieve says.  “And we’re working damage control as fast as we can, but it’s all over the news.”

 

“What is?” Jensen asks.

 

“You shot two men, Jensen,” Jeff replies.  “And there were cameras rolling.  Lots of them.”

 

“I shot them in my own defense,” Jensen argues.  “In Jared’s defense.”

 

“No one said you didn’t,” Jeff says.

 

“Then what?  Is Congress going to have me fucking impeached for defending myself and my…” he stops, not really knowing how he intended on finishing that sentence.  And his what?  What is Jared to him?  It’s a pretty easy answer, really.  He’s _everything_.  He doesn’t say it, but with the way everyone is looking at him he knows it’s written all over his face.  “What’s going to happen?” he asks Jeff much more calmly than he feels.  “Am I going to be arrested?”

 

“No one’s going to arrest you,” Jeff assures him.  “But there’s no denying that _you_ and _not_ one of us shot those two men.  Given the circumstances, I’m not sure anything’s going to be done about it, to be honest.  But that doesn’t mean that there won’t be a shitstorm coming your way from the media and your opposition.  We’ve got to be ready for that.”

 

“And I’d like to see Congress try and impeach you,” Genevieve says. 

 

“You’re a total badass,” Misha adds.  “You should see the video.”

 

“I think I’ll pass,” Jensen pales.  There’s no way he can watch that clip, even if it does center around him gunning down two armed men.  He knows it’ll show Jared mortally wounded and bleeding in his arms and that’s not something he thinks he’ll ever be prepared to see.

 

“We’re sorry about that too,” Genevieve says.  “We tried, but we just couldn’t get to it all before it went viral.”

 

“You had over a million hits on youtube before we got it pulled down and confiscated,” Misha points out. 

 

“We issued a gag order on the footage,” Jeff says.  “We’ve got our eyes out there, but it hasn’t surfaced on the internet or in the media since.”

 

“I should have saved some of the comments,” Misha sighs.  “They were solid gold.  You’re a rock star to some of these people.”

 

“Your approval rating _did_ go up several points over the last few days,” Genevieve corroborates. 

 

Jensen doesn’t even have to say anything, just fixes her with a look.

 

“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. 

 

“Did we at least catch some of them?” Jensen asks.  “Do we know why and how this happened?”

 

“We arrested three armed men outside of UN Headquarters,” Jeff starts.  “Two were wounded and the other taken down by a couple of our bigger boys.  We’ve been questioning them, and they admitted it was difficult to breach our security, especially at the UN, but we’re human and we’re not perfect, and even with the perimeter we set up, there’s no way to check every inch of it at every moment.  They just slipped in.  They also insist that they acted alone and that they were _cutting off the head of the snake to watch the rest of it die_.”

 

“Backyard revolutionaries,” Gen says.  “They were planning a coup with their army of three or however many there were.”

 

“But they’re not the only ones,” Jensen reminds them.  “Are we sure this is it?”

 

“No,” Jeff shakes his head.  “It turns out that they’re part of some online network of extremists that want to return the nation to its _glory days_.”

 

“Great,” Jensen grumbles.  “What are we doing about it?”

 

“Monitoring, mostly,” Jeff says.  “The FBI has been on them for a while, but there was no way of tracking their munitions purchases, no hint of when or where they’d strike, just that the target was you.”

 

“And what about the ones we’ve arrested?” Jensen asks. 

 

“They’ll be tried in the federal system and probably sent to rot in a super max until they die,” Jeff states.  “They’re going to pay for what they’ve done, both to you and to Jared.”

 

“How is Jared, by the way?” she asks, stepping close and running her hands over his arms, soothing him as Misha and Jeff begin to strategize how to proceed.

 

“He’s going to be all right,” Jensen says.  “They just brought him off the sedative today and he’s been coherent for a few hours now.”

 

“And you?” she asks, dark eyes so expressive and concerned. 

 

“I’m better,” he answers honestly.  “It’s a relief to see him awake, to be able to talk to him.  I didn’t know just how much I was white-knuckling it until I saw…”

 

“Saw what?” she presses, but not unkindly.

 

“His, uh, I’m going to sound ridiculous,” Jensen laughs to himself a little.  “He smiled at me, and then I just knew.”

 

“That everything would be okay?” she offers, giving him an encouraging smile.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees.  “Pretty much.”

 

“He loves you too, you know,” she says quietly, too soft to be overheard by Misha and Jeff.  She doesn’t give him a chance to speak before she plows on.  “He didn’t just take that shot because it’s his job.  We’ve all been watching the two of you for weeks now.  He’s good for you.  He’s brought you out of a dark place and given you back your life.  Don’t doubt him, though.  Don’t doubt that he’s just as crazy about you as you are about him, because you’d be wrong.”

 

“How’d you get to be so smart?” Jensen asks with a hint of a smile.

 

“Someone has to be,” she grins.  “I love you, you idiot,” she pulls him into a hug.

 

“Love you too, Gen,” he says.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jared sleeps off and on for the next two days, drifting in and out of a drug-induced fog and always looking for Jensen first.  Sherri goes to the hotel the Padaleckis are staying in on the second day, leaving Jensen and Jared alone for the first time since he woke up.

 

They’re sitting on the bed quietly, both leaning against each other as Jared mindlessly flips through the channels on the television only to wind up at the beginning, having to start all over again, and finding nothing worth even making fun of.

 

“I need a toothbrush,” Jared announces suddenly, turning the TV off and tossing the remote on the bedside stand.

 

“For what?” Jensen asks, giving him a puzzled look.

 

“For tunneling out of here,” Jared rolls his eyes.  “For brushing my teeth, obviously.  I haven’t brushed them for the better part of a week and it tastes like roadkill,” he complains.  “And I really want to kiss you.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jensen says, jumping into action and rifling through all of the drawers until he comes up with a brush and digs his tube of toothpaste out of his overnight bag. 

 

He sets it all out on the wash counter for Jared and then goes to help him out of bed, hovering closely all the way to the sink.  Jared struggles for a bit, having to figure out how best to accomplish his task with the least amount of movement, ending up having to settle for a less vigorous brushing than usual. 

 

“You told your mom about me,” Jensen says, watching him carefully as he rinses his mouth out.

 

“Of course I told my mom about you,” Jared says as he wipes his face off, turning and facing Jensen.  “You’re kind of a big deal to me.”

 

“I guess it’s fair, because I told my mom about you too.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jared asks with a smile.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen replies, smiling back.  “I think she’s expecting you for the holidays now.”

 

“Mine too,” Jared laughs.

 

“You know what that means, right?” Jensen asks Jared lets him guide him back to bed.

 

“Holidays in D.C.,” Jared replies with a chuckle as he takes steady steps back to his bed, allowing Jensen to help him get resituated.  “Might be better that way anyhow.”

 

“I think you may be right,” Jensen agrees. 

 

“So, the kissing part,” Jared begins, settled and comfortable again and reaching for Jensen.  “I’m pretty sure I deserve one for all of this.”

 

“Why did you do that to me?” Jensen asks, grasping Jared’s outstretched hand and burying his face in it.  “Why did you take that bullet for me?”

 

“All I could think, all I could do when I saw what you had planned, was _not him_ ,” Jared replies as his voice breaks a bit, squeezing Jensen’s hand weakly.  “ _Not for me_.”

 

“Well,” Jensen sniffles and gives him a little chuckle, turning green eyes bright with unshed tears on the man he loves completely.  “Good thing you don’t get to make that call anymore.”

 

“Are you firing me?” Jared asks, raising an eyebrow.  “I figured I’d get a medal.”

 

“Ass,” Jensen says at the tease.  “You’ll get a fucking medal.”

 

“And?  Why is it I don’t get to save your pretty ass anymore?” Jared pushes.

 

“You’re going to be on leave for a _long_ time,” Jensen says.  “The longer, the better.  And… well, Jared, I…”

 

“Yeah,” Jared grins at him.  “Me too.”

 

“God, if I’d lost you,” Jensen says, surging up and leaning in to kiss him gently. 

 

“You didn’t,” Jared assures him, kissing him back. 

 

“Don’t scare me like that again, Jay,” Jensen begs.  “I can’t take it.  I can’t lose someone I love like that again.”

 

“Won’t lose me,” Jared smiles against his lips.  “I’m harder to get rid of than that.”

 

“Good thing,” Jensen says.  “Because there’ll probably be more people taking shots at you as my boyfriend.”

 

“Boyfriend?” Jared asks, pulling back and locking eyes with Jensen.  “You’re serious?”

 

“Yes,” Jensen says.  “I want to make it official.”

 

“Aren’t you afraid of what they’ll say about you?”

 

“No,” Jensen affirms.  “I can’t care about that anymore.  And as long as I’ve got you by my side, I’ll have everything I need.”

 

“God, I love you,” Jared swears, pulling Jensen back to him and kissing him soundly. 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Jared says, brushing imaginary lint from Jensen’s suit jacket.

 

Jared’s still a little pale.  He’s been out of the hospital for a while now, long enough to be out and about, but not long enough to start rehab, and the sling his left arm rests in is a constant reminder of that fateful afternoon when Jensen’s whole world almost ended with a single bullet.  And he knows Jared is just concerned about him, but this is something he has to do and not even Chris and all of his dirty looks can stop him, just like no amount of eye rolling from Jensen stopped Chris from breaking out the bulletproof glass and suit.

 

“I do, though,” Jensen says.  “You are _not_ my dirty little secret, Jared, and I’m not going to hide.”

 

“This is probably going to destroy your career, you know,” Jared says, concerned and supportive.  Jensen knows Jared would go along with whatever he decided, but he really can’t care about his career anymore.  Not after the last few years.

 

“This job has destroyed my life,” Jensen says.  “I lost my wife, I had to send my daughter away, I’ve lost friends, and people have been coming out of the woodwork to try and put me in the ground,” he states, meeting Jared’s eyes.  “You are the only good thing that has happened to me in longer than I can remember, and if loving you keeps me from getting the nomination or re-elected, then I think it’ll have been worth it.  _You’ll_ always be worth it, and I don’t think I’ll ever regret choosing you over this nightmare.”

 

“You’re sure?” Jared asks, looking anxious but hopeful.

 

“Absolutely,” Jensen confirms.  “I’m not ashamed of us, and I’d rather do this on my terms than be stalked and outed by the media.  I don’t want to put you through that.  I don’t want that for us.”

 

“I _can_ keep a secret,” Jared says.

 

“My whole staff knew about us well before I told them,” Jensen laughs.  “Clearly we can’t keep secrets.  I can’t keep my eyes off of you and you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

 

“That’s because you’re so hot,” Jared says.  “I just can’t help myself.  I think Abel is the one who said I tend to be all over you like shit on velcro.”

 

Jensen laughs again. 

 

“He’s not wrong, you know,” he agrees.

 

“I know,” Jared smiles.

 

“Do you not want to do this?” Jensen asks, turning serious again.  “I mean, I know we talked about it, but I don’t want to make you do this if you’ve changed your mind…”

 

“I haven’t,” Jared assures him, taking his hand in his warm palm and pulling it to his chest.  “I love you, Jensen, and I trust you.  And if anyone tries to hurt you, I’m going to protect you.”

 

“It’s you I’m worried about,” Jensen points out.

 

“I think that between Jeff and Chris and the rest of the gang, I’ll be just fine,” Jared says with a gentle smile.  “And this bulletproof suit isn’t half bad either.  I know you had something to do with that.”

 

“Chris made me wear one,” Jensen says.  “There’s no way I was going to let you go without.”

 

“You know, sometimes I think you forget who I am,” Jared smirks, stepping into Jensen’s space.

 

“I know exactly who you are,” Jensen grins back, looking up at the man he loves so much.

 

“Oh yeah?” Jared raises an eyebrow.

 

“You’re mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Other notes can be found at my livejournal. 
> 
> Master Post: http://luvmuffinfic.livejournal.com/13175.html  
> Notes: http://luvmuffinfic.livejournal.com/13737.html  
> Art Post: http://banbury.livejournal.com/154240.html


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